


Your Love Is a Waiting Game

by orangeyouglad8



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Science Fiction, actual soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 09:47:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6748819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeyouglad8/pseuds/orangeyouglad8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Adjustment Bureau AU. Clexa Style. </p>
<p>It happens six days before the election. The earth shakes beneath Lexa’s feet and her entire world is flipped upside down. On a regular Wednesday morning, like so many before them, Lexa boards the bus and looks out into the crowd moving on the sidewalk and sees her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't know how many of you have seen The Adjustment Bureau but it is highly underrated and one of my favorite movies. The story lends itself to Clarke and Lexa so well, I just had to fic it. Enjoy! And go rent the movie- Emily Blunt is stellar.

It happens six days before the election.

The earth shakes beneath Lexa's feet and her entire world is flipped upside down.

On a regular Wednesday morning, like so many before them, Lexa boards the bus and looks out into the crowd moving on the sidewalk and sees _her._

And something clicks into place.

Watching this stranger, this girl she's never seen before, and Lexa feels a pull.

Like this is the girl she's been looking for all this time.

The one she's been searching for in the eyes of all the others. All the ones who flirt, who buy her drinks, who hand over their numbers with expectation and lust in their eyes.

All the ones Lexa has always ignored.

This girl...this girl looks up towards the bus and catches Lexa's eyes for a second.

And Lexa is paralyzed in the moment.

Blood pounding in her ears and stomach flopping to her feet.

Everything in her body wants to move, to leave the bus and fight the crowd to catch up. To hear this girl speak, learn her name, understand everything about her.

But she can't.

The bus moves and she's jostled into her seat, upset and wondering if something magical just slipped through her fingers like water.

She shakes her head, trying to clear it. Trying to pull reason and logic back to the surface. It's just a pretty girl. Just a pretty stranger.

Xx

Life shouldn't feel mundane in the last push before Election Day, but it does.

Everything feels dull, rote. The early pre-dawn run through the park every morning, the coffee stop, the polling numbers and speeches and appearances, even turning her key and returning back to her sparse apartment with the plain white walls and starchy white sheets.

Nothing feels the same.

Lexa can't shake the itch. Can't fight the pull, the feeling of something warm and alive between her ribs, can't forget the girl she saw for only an instant before she disappeared into the crowd.

Xx

"Do you remember that picture we found and buried before your second term in the House?" Indra comes storming into Lexa's campaign office, her voice tight and grim.

Lexa's stomach turns, "Indra…"

Indra slaps down a copy of the _Metro_. "Flip over to the back page."

It's there, on the top corner. Blurred out but clearly her. Young and foolish and enjoying New Orleans far too much. "Fuck."

Indra nods. "We need to get ahead of this."

"There's no getting ahead of this… it's already out, published."

"We need to address this-"

"How did this come out? I thought we had all the copies?" Lexa cuts her off, tries to tamp down the anger growing in her voice, but questions snarl out of her.

"Lexa-"

"No, stop. I don't want excuses." She holds up her hand and Indra stops talking. Lexa runs her hands over her face and tries to think of a solution.

Indra breaks the silence, "We should say something before your appearance tonight, everyone will make it all about this instead of your platforms."

"No."

"Lexa,"

"I'll address it. Change the speech for later, I'm not doing anything before tonight. It's just the _Metro_ , everyone knows the _Metro_ is full of shit."

"The election is in three days, you need to be taking this seriously."

"I _am_ taking this seriously."

"You've been in a daze all week!"

Lexa holds Indra's glare, knowing full well her head hasn't been in the game since Wednesday. "Am I not allowed to be nervous?"

"Sure you are," Indra's words are still hard, but disappointment sneaks through. She grabs the paper and turns to leave, "I'll see what I can handle from here. But, you're making a mistake on this."

Xx

The story doesn't die down. The weekend passes and it gets picked up by every other media outlet. Lexa's speech touches on it, but adds to the firestorm.

When Octavia tells her Monday that the polling data shows her lead cut down to three points, she knows she made a misstep.

"She was right, O."

"Indra is always right about shit like this, when are you going to listen."

Lexa shakes her head, "I thought I had it handled."

"So did I. It's too late to do anything about it now, we just have to wait and see what happens tomorrow."

"Yeah." Lexa sips at her beer, the alcohol fueling her thoughts.

"You haven't been yourself all week…" Octavia lets it hang there. Lexa avoids it.

"My eleven point lead has been severely chopped, of course I'm not myself."

"I'm not talking about politics. Though, who knew you were cocky enough to blow a lead that big."

Lexa scoffs, sips her beer again. "Guess there's a first time for everything."

They sit in silence for another few moments. The sounds of the bar alive around them. Octavia looks exhausted, the kind of exhausted that needs more than a good night's sleep.

"You can tell me about it, you know. I am your friend."

"There's nothing to tell."

"You've been in a daze, I've never seen you like this."

Lexa fights the images that swim before her eyes, the smile that wants to pull her lips. And as much as she wants to win the election tomorrow, she wants to see that girl again even more.

Xx

The hotel suite doubling as campaign headquarters for the night is dead silent.

Lexa lost the Brooklyn district.

Lexa lost her home.

"Hope you wrote a good concession speech, O."

"There's still time-"

"I lost my neighborhood… it's over."

They stare in disbelief as state pulls red on the monitor for the first time in years. She turns to Indra, feeling nothing but remorse. "I'm sorry I wasted your time."

"I would follow you anywhere, Lexa. This hasn't been a waste."

"We lost."

Xx

Her speech is fine. Standard. Moving at parts.

Lexa sneaks down to the bathroom of the closed hotel bar to hide. To lick her wounds before going on stage.

To run through the speech again, try to make it real. Make it feel natural.

The bathroom is large and empty, but she calls out anyway to make sure she's alone. When no one answers, she begins reciting her speech from the top, pacing the tile floor, her heels clicking and echoing around the room. Mumbling and quiet, she tries out different inflections, different word choices, still not liking the taste of defeat on her tongue.

She stops only when she hears something fall against the floor, and a quiet whispered "Shit."

She startles, heart jumping to her throat, blush immediate on her cheeks. "Hello?"

There's no sound, no reply.

"Hello?" She tries again.

Slowly a stall door opens and Lexa's heart races for another reason.

"Sorry, I um… I heard you come in but I'm hiding in here and then I didn't know what to say and you kind of just started talking and then it was more awkward and-" The girl looks up, Lexa sees recognition dawn on her face. "Oh, it's you."

"It's me."

The pit that settled in Lexa's stomach begins to dissolve. She feels something else run through her veins. Something warm.

"That election didn't go too well for you then, huh?"

She laughs, "No. Complete disaster."

"Well, that's a shame."

"It is. I didn't even win my home district."

"Ouch."

She nods, "Yeah."

"You don't look too sad about it."

"Believe me, I am."

"Then why are you smiling?" The other girl feigns confusion for just a moment, her eyes serious and so blue against the navy of her dress.

"Because all I can think about right now is asking you for your name."

"Well, that was a line if I ever heard one." A laugh, melodic. It chips away the last remainder of the unease in Lexa's stomach.

"No line, just the truth." Lexa shrugs, her eyes honest and focused on the face before her.

"Hmm… well Miss Alexandra North, I suppose I can let you in on a little secret."

"See, you've already done your due diligence. I'm just trying to catch up."

"Looks like you've been trying to catch up all night." The girl says it with such a smile, such an ease, that Lexa lets it roll off her back.

"Gonna keep me running?"

A hand reaches out, blue eyes focus on hers, "Clarke."

Lexa takes her hand, firm and strong, one shake and then two, "It's just Lexa."

"Just Lexa… maybe that's why you lost." She winks and Lexa feels her knees wobble.

"Wow, you really know how to kick a girl when she's down, huh?"

"Kicking you would be telling you that speech is good."

Lexa laughs, "Just going to keep bringing the pain?"

"Oh yeah. Who ever told you that people want their politicians cold and stoic?" Her eyes glint with mischief.

"I'm not cold and stoic..."

Clarke nods, "Yeah, you are."

"Any ideas on how to fix it then?"

Clarke takes a step closer to her, "Unbutton that top button, show the world you like to breathe."

"But I can't look like a floozy." She fakes admonishment.

"Trust me, you don't. But you could look like you know how to have fun once in awhile."

"I have fun."

"I know, I've seen it…it was plastered all over the papers this week." A smirk and a shake of her head.

"Ah, seems you know me even better than I thought… which means you know I _really_ shouldn't be looking like a floozy." She teases back and Clarke steps closer.

"This girl… _this_ girl is the one I would have voted for."

"Did you?"

"Don't you think you should get to know me a little better before you start asking me about such intimate things like political preference and voting habits?"

Lexa just smirks, taking it in stride. "You're a bit overdressed for my rally."

"Are you always this cocky? With the lines and the assuming I'm here for you?"

She nods, "Hazard of the trade."

"There's a gala in the smaller ballroom tonight. I'm in here hiding."

"Bad date?"

"You wouldn't believe."

"I think my night has been going worse, up until now…"

"Up until now?" Clarke's voice is soft and deep, her eyes flitting between Lexa's lips and her eyes. Lexa feels something pull her forwards, towards lips and a smile. Before she knows it, Clarke's arm is around her shoulders, the other hand on her waist, pulling her close.

And then mouths connect.

Lips on hers hungrily kissing, aching for more. Lexa's hand weaves through Clarke's hair, sits at the base of her neck and keeps her there. A small moan gets swallowed, a brush of tongue.

It's the kind of kiss that leaves a mark on the soul. Searching and desperate, calm and steady, like seeing something new for the first time and coming home all at once. It leaves Lexa breathless and wanting. She tilts her head, asking for more, and Clarke responds, pulling her body closer, closer.

It shakes everything inside of Lexa to her core.

Until Octavia's voice breaks through the haze, "Lexa- _oh god,_ sorry!"

Clarke jumps away from Lexa, her cheeks red, her eyes on the floor. She wipes her mouth and smiles when she touches her lips.

"Yes, Octavia?" Lexa calls over her shoulder, unable to stop looking at this beautiful girl in front of her.

"It's time…. Um, I'll give you a second."

"Nope, I'm good." Lexa stands up straighter and fixes her hair in the mirror, Clarke's gaze burning into her.

"I'll just… be going." Clarke moves towards the door, a secretive look on her face. "Remember, _be you_."

"Wait…"

She turns around and flashes a brilliant smile, "Don't worry, Just Lexa, I'll see you around."

Lexa rushes past Octavia and back into the hallway just in time to see Clarke turn the corner towards the wide stone stairway leading into the lobby. When she reaches the top of it, blonde hair is already disappearing into the night.

Xx

"Lexa… what was that?"

"I'm not sure." Lexa lengthens her stride, trying to get away from the questions and the analysis. Wanting to cement the feeling of Clarke's lips against hers into her memory.

"What do you mean you're not sure? You were macking on somebody in the bathroom and you're _not sure_?"

Lexa straightens her jacket, opens the door that leads to the wings of the stage that's been set up for her. "She kissed me, I think."

She can feel the incredulity on Octavia's face without looking. "Lexa,"

Lexa turns and snaps, nerves and the kiss both rattling inside of her, " _Enough_."

The announcer calls her to the stage a heartbeat later. While Octavia is facing her down with a glare that means this conversation isn't finished, as much as Lexa wants it to be. She can never quite stop being handled by everyone around her.

The supportive cheers from the crowd ring dull in her ears. Her first loss sits heavy on her shoulders, she can't help but feel like she's let everyone down.

She begins her speech and makes it a quarter of the way through before she remembers the way Clarke looked at her.

The way Clarke saw right through it all. The facade. The politician's veneer.

And she stops.

"You know what," She clears her throat. "That's all bullshit. Get knocked down, get back up isn't from my neighborhood. It's just one of those sayings. It sounded good in the speech, it tests well with focus groups. It's canned. Clever. It's not me."

The crowd stills.

"I got knocked down New York. By my past. By my arrogance. By my pride. I got knocked down and I stayed there, forgot how to fight for you. For myself. I let everyone else tell me how to react, how to think. I stopped being _me_." She glances to the wings, Indra's face baffled and angry, Octavia stunned, pacing.

"Everything you see up here has been tested, been approved by a team. By more than one team. What looks good on television. What sounds good in bites, in clips. What will have the least amount of ripples but still get the message across. This suit, this suit was picked out for me and color tested by a team of seven people. _Seven_. These shoes," She leans down and slips out of one, holding it up to the light, "These shoes were broken in just enough to show that I'm busy, that I have a life, but not enough to show that I don't take care of things, that I'm careless."

The lenses all snap, reporters and media focused intently on the blip of reality they're seeing for the first time.

"This election has taught me many valuable lessons. Has reminded me that we cannot escape our past, no matter how hard we try. That it is important to remain humble, down-to-earth, apologetic when the time comes. I didn't fight hard enough for you this time, New York. But I promise you that I will from this moment on. Thank you for getting me this far. May we meet again."

The cheers begin again louder than before but Lexa doesn't hear them. They've never mattered less to her. She catches the eye of a woman by the front of the stage, who nods and smiles with approval. She looks at Lexa like she knows her, like she's known her forever. Lexa pauses for just a breath before shaking her head and crossing back to the wings.

Xx

Her speech goes viral.

Everyone calls her a rock star, laments not voting for her.

It does nothing to ease the pain of losing. Of restlessness that sits in her bones.

Octavia's firm offers her a job, a way to kill time before the next election cycle. She takes it, not knowing what else to do. Having packed up her life in D.C. and transplanting back to Manhattan for the stay.

It's been weeks but she thinks about that kiss, the way Clarke moaned into her mouth, the weight of an arm around her shoulders, every night.

Every moment she's not busy.

Every time her mind wanders.

For the first time in as long as she can remember, something makes her feel alive. Real.


	2. Interlude

"You look tired." A gruff voice pulls you from your reverie as the giant of a man sits next to you on the cold park bench.

"I am."

"You should take a vacation."

"She's a full time job. While I'm with her, I won't have time."

He pauses and pulls a leather notebook from his jacket, opening it to watch the lines and figures moving along the page.

You look up at the clock, still plenty of time before your next piece of intervention needs to occur.

"I don't think I've told you yet, but that was a genius move you pulled on election night."

You try not to smile, compliments from your superior few and far between. "Thank you, Gustus."

"I mean it… having that girl spark that speech, that's the kind of stuff that gets you noticed upstairs."

You nod, hoping a promotion is in your near future. "That's the goal."

"Anya, you're doing great. I know this case hasn't been easy but you've been solid. Just a little while longer."

"And then maybe a vacation." You chuckle and fold the knit hat in your hands.

He glances at the clock on the building before you, the park picking up life around the bench where you're seated. "Don't forget, that bus can't show up. She's gotta get in a cab today, ok?"

You lift the notebook in your hands, the worn leather smooth and supple under your fingertips. "Got it, Gus."

"If they meet again it'll be even more work-"

" _Gus_ , I _know_. I do have a copy of her plan right here. She is my mark, you know."

"Alright, alright," He laughs his booming laugh and claps a strong hand on your shoulder. "I just like looking out for you kid."

"I know, and thank you. But, I got it. I've been with her for years."

"You're doing great, Anya."

He stands to leave, placing his hat back on his head and nodding at you. You watch him disappear into the crowd and glance at the clock again. Twenty minutes until you need to move, make sure the bus never makes it and North gets a cab instead.

A bird cooing loudly next to you startles you from sleep. You look up at the clock frantic and frenzied.

"Shit. _SHIT_."

You set off at a run but it's too late. You watch as the bus pulls away from the curb, North clear through the window. You pull out the notebook and watch the lines play together, the shimmering blue dot in the center of the page getting bigger, bigger.

"Fuck."

Your cell phone rings in your pocket and you ignore it, running after the bus instead. Not knowing what else to do. Knowing already that it's too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you're all enjoying this story! I've been pretty excited about it for a while and I'm so happy to share it with you. I appreciate all the love and comments I've gotten so far, so thank you kru!


	3. Two

The first day of her new life begins in the same way as all the others. With the alarm clock ringing from the bedside table at 5:17AM, breaking through the silence of sleep. Lexa rolls over and takes a few deep breaths, brushing sleep from her eyes, stretching and rolling her ankles.

Octavia has sent her a text well into the night telling her to stop by her office first thing. She smiles, thinking about all the trouble she'll continue to get into at work with her friend.

There's a certain lightness to her step as she dresses for work after her run. The endorphins pushing some of the nerves and anxiety away, filling her with purpose. She swings a scarf around her neck and pulls on her winter coat and wonders if it will feel nice or strange to come home in the evening at a normal hour.

Xx

The coffee is hotter than usual, biting her hand through the flimsy paper cup. The bus is late.

The bus is never late.

She'll have to get a cab if it doesn't show up soon.

A small crowd of regulars has joined her on the sidewalk as they wait for the Number 5 uptown, and it's more crowded than usual when it arrives. The passengers depart in a huddled mass, pushing their way through the crowd that waits to board. The driver smiles and apologizes as Lexa swipes her metrocard, looking up towards her normal seat.

There's a girl hunched over against the window, but the aisle seat is free. She slides in and sits quickly. The girl next to her stirs and Lexa glances out of the corner of her eye, her heart leaping into her throat as she does.

_Clarke._

She takes her in, the way her legs are crossed at the knee, the way blonde tendrils escape the gray hat on top of her head, the way her fingers sit relaxed on her thighs.

A tiny miracle from the universe here on her bus. In her row.

"It's really dangerous to sleep on the bus… you might miss your stop." Lexa clears her throat.

Clarke jolts awake, sitting more upright and turning to Lexa with confusion in her eyes. Lexa watches them grow wider and then softer with recognition.

"Just Lexa."

"Just Clarke."

"Hi."

"Morning."

"I saw your speech."

"I thought you left?" Lexa's whole body warms at the thought.

"Oh, I did. But I went to the bar across the street and argued with the bartender until he changed the channel. I got a lot of dirty looks when the Rangers game suddenly disappeared."

"Ah. And what did you think?"

"I think they should be thanking me because the Bruins scored twice on them in two minutes."

The answer surprises Lexa, but she keeps up. "About the speech?"

Clarke smiles. It's small but warm, enough of a smile for her eyes to crinkle just the slightest bit. "I think the voters of New York are all idiots."

Lexa finally allows the laugh she's been biting down free, Clarke's eyes sparkle and dance. "I won't fight you on that one."

"I'm sorry you lost the election, Lexa." It's genuine, soft.

"Me too."

"Will you run again?"

Lexa sighs, "I'm not sure yet, to be honest." She pauses and Clarke doesn't interject, waiting to see if Lexa will finish her thought. "They all want me to."

"You should."

The bus slows for the next stop and Lexa moves her legs in closer to Clarke to make room for the bustle of people on and off. Clarke's warmth more welcoming than she'd like to notice. Their shoulders brush and Lexa holds her breath.

She doesn't let it out until the bus starts moving again.

She doesn't move herself away from Clarke.

"I was hoping I'd see you again." Clarke whispers, so close to Lexa.

"Me too."

"Can I convince you to get breakfast with me?" Her eyes are hopeful and so blue when Lexa meets them.

"On any other day, _any_ other day, I would say yes but,"

"But…"

"But I'm starting a new job today and I'm already going to be late."

Clarke nods, her smile not fading from her lips. "I guess that's more important than breakfast."

"I wouldn't say so."

"What would you say?" Clarke's voice is raspy and wonderful, it sends chills down Lexa's spine.

"I'd say, if I had your number I could call you and ask you on a proper date."

"Smooth with the lines again, huh?"

"I mean it."

Clarke's pupils dilate as she glances at Lexa's lips. "Doesn't make it less of a line."

Lexa leans in conspiratorially, jokingly looking around for eavesdroppers. "You know, it's not normal for me to go around kissing strangers in bathrooms. The least I could do is take you out, learn your last name…"

"Lexa,"

"I want to get to know you, Clarke. I feel this… this _pull_ , this-" Lexa stops and holds Clarke's gaze, sees a calmness in them. Draws strength from it. "I want to get to know you." The truth spills from her lips so easily, so freely, it scares her.

Something about Clarke is different.

She feels it.

Clarke blushes, "Ok." She reaches over and picks up Lexa's coffee cup, pulling a pen from her bag with her other hand and pulling the cap off with her teeth. She smiles as she scrawls her number on the warm cardboard. "I like the Lexa that doesn't use lines."

"Hmm?" Lexa is pulled from her daze by Clarke's words, by her voice, her lips moving before her.

"That was… honest and refreshing and I liked it."

Xx

The giddy smile on her face and butterflies in her stomach don't die down even as the elevator ascends to her new home away from home, her new life. The nerves from the morning all but gone, replaced by blue eyes and wide smiles and the hint of perfume.

Lexa clutches the coffee cup in her hand like a lifeline.

Keeps glancing down at the numbers to make sure they're real. That they're still there and haven't magically disappeared.

She reads them over and over, studying Clarke's fancy scrawl. The little smudges in the ink from her left hand.

She's never been less focused on work in her life. All she can think about is calling Clarke, hearing her delicious voice again, setting up a date.

She nods at the three women waiting in the lobby and continues down to her new office. It's next to Octavia's and more spacious than she's used to. A giant window overlooks Manhattan, the Chrysler building gleaming in the winter sun. It never fails to take her breath away.

Octavia bursts into the office before she can settle, transfer Clarke's number to her phone, or look at anything already waiting for her on her desk.

"It took losing an election to get you, but damn I'm glad you're finally here."

"Good morning to you, too."

Octavia's happiness is contagious and she sits in the chair in front of Lexa's desk bouncing her knee. It's all too familiar and yet completely new.

"I left you these files that I was talking about the other day. I want to bring you in on these projects, I'm glad to have you on the team because I know how you think and I think we can get some really great things done together."

Lexa laughs, "You said as much when you called me about the job, O."

"I know but, it's real now you know."

"I do. I have officially gone from Congresswoman to venture capitalist."

Octavia slaps her knees and stands up, "Damn right! Ok, we have a morning briefing at ten so you have some time to go over those files. After that, I'm taking you to lunch."

"Sounds good. I hope you brought your wallet because we are not going cheap on this if you're finally paying."

With a roll of her eyes and a flip of her middle finger, Octavia leaves the office and shuts the door behind her.

Xx

A soft knock on her door pulls Lexa's attention away from the open file in front of her. Octavia's pet project larger in scope than she let on. She lifts her head and calls out, waiting for her secretary to enter.

Instead it's a tall, thin woman she's never seen before.

Lexa reaches over and buzzes for her secretary, but the woman distracts her. "She won't answer."

"Sorry? Have we met before? I haven't been introduced to all the senior partners yet."

The woman smirks, "No, I don't work here."

"Are you a client…" She glances down at her schedule, "I don't have a client meeting today."

"Lexa, please sit. I'll explain everything to you in a moment." The woman exudes a calm confidence that irks Lexa. She looks at home in the office, at ease speaking to her even though they have never met.

"Excuse me?"

Lexa stands from her chair, feeling more than vulnerable. Her heartbeat pounding in her ears, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

"Lexa, please." Her eyes motion to the chair Lexa just stood from.

"No, I want to know why you're in my office. I'm calling security."

The woman stretches her hand out, makes a swishing motion and Lexa's knees hit the back of her chair as she falls into it.

"How did you do that? What's going on?"

"Please take a deep breath, you're going to have a panic attack and I cannot deal with that today." The woman's voice is cold, unfeeling. A scowl prominent. She sits in the chair Octavia occupied moments before and unbuttons her winter coat but does not remove her hat.

"Don't tell me what to do. Security! Katie!"

"I see we're going to have to do this the hard way." She stands and walks around the desk, grabbing Lexa's elbow and yanking her to her feet. "I really, really didn't want to have to do this."

Lexa does not stop yelling, calling out for anyone to come and help. The woman leads her to the door of her closet and twists the knob. When it opens Lexa sees a stark, empty warehouse with a chair in the middle of the room.

"What the-"

It's the last thing she sees.

Xx

She hears voices pulling at her like she's underwater. Her arms ache, the circulation in them cutting off in the shoulders. As she becomes conscious she takes stock of her situation as quietly as she can. Not opening her eyes.

Her hands are cuffed behind her, the stool beneath her cold. The room around her is bright and smells of stale air. The voices are to her left, hushed and annoyed.

She begins struggling, trying to free herself.

"I wouldn't." The voice is deep and gruff.

Lexa opens her eyes and sees a giant of a man before her. His gray suit almost popping where it's buttoned around his belly. His beard bushy and wild.

"What the hell is this? Where are we? Everyone will know I'm gone very soon, you need to let me go."

"Alexandra, please. No one is coming to find you. We don't want to harm you, but we need to explain some ground rules."

"What ground rules, who are you fucking people?"

"We're the Bureau."

"The what?"

"The Adjustment Bureau."

"What is this? Is this a weird hazing ritual? Octavia this is some real bullshit you know." Lexa calls out over her shoulder, willing this to be some weird, elaborate rouse.

He laughs, "No, it's not a hazing. This is a very real situation before you. We're the people who make sure everything goes according to plan."

"What plan?" She struggles even more against the cuffs, feels nothing around her ankles.

The woman from the office hands him a leather notebook. He opens it and shows it to Lexa, lines and circles alive and moving along a grid, flashing and pulsing forward. "This is yours." He points to a red circle, "This is when you lost the election."

"Why is it all moving?" Nerves stir hot and visceral in her blood, her fight or flight response aching.

"This is the path that gets you to the White House, Alexandra."

"Are you some kind of weird Super PAC or something?"

He laughs again, "No, we kind of run the world. The Chairman draws up plans for everyone and we," he points to the other people in the room, "Are agents. We make sure our marks are following the Chairman's plan."

"Oh, ok." Lexa nods, fear deep and real in her belly. She stands quickly and tries to make a break for it, she makes it three steps before the floor rises up and catches her toe. When she falls it is hard and heavy.

"Did you really think I wouldn't see that coming? I can read your mind, I know every thought you have in your head."

She's dragged back to the stool and shoved down.

"Listen, I don't want to harm you… I don't usually take such extreme measures but, you've had quite an anomaly of a day today already and if I don't intervene your entire plan will be a bust."

Lexa struggles against the tie around her hands, bruises already forming under her skin, "Ok, I don't know what's going on but I need to leave, you need to take me back right now."

"Pick a color."

"Excuse me?"

"Pick a color."

"Red-"

He cuts her off, his voice over hers as she says it, "Red."

"Pick a number."

"Seven." They both say again.

"I know you think you're losing your mind, but I can assure you that is not the case. We usually stay secret, try not to show ourselves when we intervene in your lives. You are definitely getting a peek behind the curtain right now. A curtain that you were never supposed to even know existed."

Lexa opens her mouth to speak, but he shushes her.

"It must be jarring for you. It's not your fault though, your path through the world this morning was supposed to have been _adjusted_." He glares at the woman who dragged Lexa from her office. The bus was supposed to be late this morning, you were supposed to take a cab."

"I was supposed to take a cab?"

"We call that an adjustment. That's what we do, nudge people back on plan. The Bureau has been helping and guiding humanity forever. Each of you has a plan and it's our job to make sure you don't stray from it."

"Why?"

"Because you humans can't seem to learn from your mistakes."

"Why am I here?"

"You met a girl."

Lexa's stomach sinks. The fear biting at the back of her neck takes an even tighter hold, it's jaw unforgiving. "You weren't supposed to see her again, but she was on your bus this morning."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"She's not part of your plan, Alexandra."

"What does that even matter?"

"It just does."

"Fuck you."

"Your anger isn't worth it."

"This all sounds like bullshit, grade A bullshit."

"I know what it sounds like, but believe me. She isn't on your path, she has her own and it is imperative that you two stay the course where you are. You have to let it go or there will be consequences."

"No."

A younger boy steps over and hands him Lexa's coffee cup. He crumples it up, pulls a lighter out of his jacket and sets it on fire. Her phone is next, his fingers fly over the screen deleting the contact.

"No, _no_ , come on… _really_?" There's a sharp pain inside of her as she watches everything disappear before her. Possibility, hope. Going up in flames before her eyes.

"Move on with your life, Alexandra. Your path is clear, love is weakness."

She watches the cup wither on the floor, flames licking the sides until it's a pile of char. "What the hell. What does my love life have anything to do with this?

"Was I not clear? You are meant to be alone, Alexandra. Your path is concise, clear cut. You are bound for greatness."

"Why should I do anything you say?" She doesn't want to believe it, doesn't want to feel the reality before her. Shoving down the feeling she's had for weeks, the feeling of someone watching her. Following her.

He steps over to a small table and starts gathering the notebooks on top of it. "I'll leave you with some words of advice. You've seen behind the curtain, you've seen the Wizard… if you tell anyone what you saw, even hint at it, it will be the last thing you remember. Your very essence will be stripped away from you and you will be reset. Your memories, your emotions… your _soul,_ will all be removed. Gone. You will be a shell."

Lexa can feel it in her blood, the certainty of his words. Even through the disbelief, the crazy.

"Do you understand?"

She nods slowly, too afraid to trust her voice.

She knows what she's seeing right now is true, real.

It doesn't make her feel any better.

It makes her feel dead inside.

Xx

She shakes off Octavia after work and heads to the bar across the street from her apartment, slogging through the cold rain that came blowing into the city after lunch.

The bartender smiles as he sets down her whiskey. She downs it in one go, the burn sliding down the back of her throat the only thing cutting through the fog. He fills another without her even asking.

She pulls a pen from her work bag and tries to write down Clarke's number on the napkin before her. The area code and the first three numbers coming to her quickly. The rest a jumble in her thoughts.

Fear slicing through the false whiskey tinged bravado.

Someone sits next to her but she doesn't look up, concerned with her puzzle.

"Your world was turned upside down today and yet all you can think about is a girl."

Lexa looks up and sees the woman who waltzed into her office. "What the…"

"It's ok," She laughs and holds up her hands in surrender, "I'm off duty."

"I don't want to talk to you." She bristles, anger creeping up inside her.

"I know."

"I actually want to punch you."

"I would too." She glances down at Lexa's napkin, "You'll never remember it. They won't let you."

"Why? I still don't get it." An eerie sense of calmness settles over Lexa in this woman's presence. Defeat.

"You're not meant to get it. Even if you did remember, the number would be dead, changed, unavailable. You won't get through to her."

Lexa scoffs, sips at the second glass of whiskey on the bar.

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because I'm here to help you." Her voice is quiet and earnest. When Lexa finally looks at her, she sees the seriousness in her eyes. The woman extends her hand, "Anya."

Lexa stares at her hand for a long beat before she meets it, the grip firm in hers. "Lexa."

"I know."

"Why do you want to help me?"

Anya shrugs, "You're different. I've been doing this a long time and I've never seen anyone like you."

"So you want to help me get to Clarke?" Lexa hates the hope that rings around her words. Bubbles in her chest.

"No." Anya gives her a sad smile, "But I will help you make sense of what you saw today, if you want. I'll answer anything I can." She slides a piece of paper across the bar before throwing money down and standing to leave. "Most people kind of lose it when they find out but you, you can't stop thinking about her."

Anya places her hat on her head and disappears through the door.

Lexa looks at the note. All it says is Staten Island Ferry

Xx

The rain is coming down in droves when Lexa's taxi pulls up to the Pier.

Anya is there waiting under an umbrella, her face passive. She hardly seems to notice when Lexa walks up to her, turning and quickly moving through the crowd. They board the ferry in silence and Anya leads her out onto the deserted deck of the ship.

"Water dulls our powers, blocks us out."

"Why?"

"I guess we shouldn't be all powerful."

"What are you?"

"I'm like you. I'm not human exactly, I age slower. But I'm a worker, I'm in charge of my cases and my marks and I make sure they stick to the plan."

"The plan from the Chairman?"

Anya nods, "God, Allah, she has many forms, many names."

Lexa pauses, trying to take it all in. Trying to accept this new reality she lives in. The reality she's lived in all along. "What about free will?"

"You have the appearance of it, you have a modicum of it when it comes to small decisions, decisions that don't matter in the long run. But mostly, we keep you on course."

"Can you really read minds?"

She laughs, "No… that's just a trick Gustus likes to play. We can't read your mind but we can sense your decisions when choices are involved. Your mind weighs options and we perceive that. He knew what you'd pick because he gave you choices and parameters. Colors, numbers."

Lexa tries to absorb it all, but she can only think about one thing. "Why have me meet Clarke at all?"

"You needed to meet her. She sparked your speech, she made you remember the person you are… she set up your next run."

"I'm sorry but this is all… just… _fucking crazy_." Lexa lets out a breath, runs her hands against her face. Exhausted, scared, unsure of what to believe.

Anya chuckles, "I know. I promise you won't see us again. I'm sorry he was so harsh with you. We're not usually, we don't usually get that hardcore."

"I'm pretty sure I'll have bruises on my knees for a while."

"When you saw Clarke again this morning it set off alarm bells. Gus is my boss and he usually doesn't step in but as soon as I saw him in my office this morning I knew shit was hitting the fan."

"Why did I see her?"

"Chance."

"So… we don't have free will, but chance still exists?"

"The universe is too big for us to cover at all times. Slips and cracks happen."

Lexa looks out at the water, cold and gray in the early winter. "So I'm just supposed to go about my days and live my life and forget that I'm not actually in charge of anything?"

Anya touches her shoulder, turns her and squeezes it, "Yes. That's exactly what you're supposed to do."

"Well this just seems ridiculous."

"You can do great things, Lexa. Believe in that when it gets hard, ok."

"How am I supposed to forget her, forget how she made me feel." Lexa's voice is small and timid in her ears. She fights against the tears prickling at her eyes, refusing to let them come.

"You're not and you won't, but…all I know is, the amount of resources they've used keeping you apart… it's pretty important to them. Being with her puts you both at risk."

"Something that feels that good, that right, isn't a risk."

"Even if they weren't trying to stop you, there are nine million people in this city. You'll never find her." Anya claps a hand on her shoulder again, her face wearing a sad, weary smile. "I'm sorry, Lexa."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still with me on this strange ride?


	4. Three

It's been almost three years.

Three years of taking the same bus to work every day.

Three years of pointless dates and forced smiles.

Three years of working herself to the bone, impressing everyone at the firm.

Three years of missing a girl she hardly knows, feeling like there's a void in her heart.

An ache somewhere deep inside of her that she cannot seem to ignore.

And just like that it's another Wednesday.

Lexa sits on the bus and sips her coffee slowly. She notices the headlines on the open papers before her, tries to pay no attention to them, tries to ignore her name in big block letters.

Lexa sits on the bus and stares out the window as the city rolls by and doesn't notice a thing until something catches her eye.

A flash of blonde.

She turns her head to follow it as it bobs down the sidewalk, getting a clear picture seconds later. Her heart slams into her stomach.

" _Stop_ … Stop the bus!" The passengers around her startle but go back to what they were doing in the blink of an eye. Lexa stumbles forward, almost tripping over herself in an attempt to get off the bus. She drops her coffee in a trashcan on the street before walking as quickly as her heels will allow.

It's fate.

Chance.

Bigger than threats.

It takes a block but she catches up easily, turning the corner and calling out the name that's been running through her mind for years.

"Clarke!"

Clarke turns her head, surprise on her face. She doesn't stop walking until she sees Lexa. Lexa stops a few feet away, her pulse ringing in her ears.

"No, _nope_. No." Clarke takes another few steps shaking her head, hands in her pockets. Lexa follows, not willing to let this opportunity slip.

"Clarke, please?"

"It's been like three years...you never even called!" Her steps begin to slap heavier on the pavement.

"I know, I know. I'm terrible."

Clarke scoffs in response.

"I was mugged."

"Please." Clarke's voice is hard, sardonic.

"No, really. My bag got stolen. Credit cards gone, phone gone, numbers belonging to beautiful girls, gone."

Clarke stops abruptly, turns to face Lexa with fire in her eyes. "Why should I believe this isn't another one of your lines, huh?"

"I know nothing about you… I don't even know your last name, Clarke. I lost your number and that was it." Her voice sounds smaller than she intends it, sheepish and afraid.

Clarke's face softens for a moment, the truth of Lexa's words sinking in.

"Griffin."

Lexa smiles. "Clarke Griffin. That would have made it a lot easier."

Clarke chuckles but swallows it quickly, "What do you want? Why are you following me?"

"I want to take you to breakfast."

"Wasn't that my idea? You told me you needed to take me on a proper date… otherwise we might not even be in this mess."

A nod, "I know. Breakfast would have saved everything, you're right." She shrugs her shoulders and looks up at this girl with nothing but hope in her eyes.

"Say that again, please." Lexa watches as Clarke fights the smile that teases her face.

"You're right, Clarke Griffin." Her lips tilt up into a half smile, a flood of relief rushes through her.

"What am I going to do with you, Alexandra North?"

"It's just Lexa, remember?"

"How could I forget?"

They fall into step again, Clarke slowing her gait for Lexa to stay at her side. "It's like you popped out of thin air."

"Me? I'm always around. Haven't you seen the news lately..."

"Yes. I have." She looks down at the ground and nods, "Your stupid face haunting me every night."

"Stupid face, huh?"

Clarke tilts her head towards Lexa, "It's been three years, Lexa."

"I know."

They walk along in silence, the lost years a valley of possibility between them. "I feel like it's a little bit of luck seeing you actually. Like fate."

"Those are big words, Lexa."

"Yeah… they are."

"I mean, I could be seeing someone. You don't even know."

Lexa's stomach swoops inside of her, her mouth goes dry. "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Seeing someone?"

"Would that change your mind? Make you stop flirting and walk away?"

She pauses, swallows. "I'm not sure."

"See… I like you better when you have conviction." Clarke sends her a look that nearly levels her.

"Ok, then no. It wouldn't change my mind. I would still be here walking up this block with you and asking you to come to breakfast with me right now."

"Ah, so you're ok with being a homewrecker?" She cocks an eyebrow and looks at Lexa again, challenge in her eyes.

Lexa grumbles, "Do you want conviction or...?"

Clarke stops again, pulls Lexa's elbow to turn her, "The answer is no, I'm not seeing anyone." She meets Lexa's gaze with nothing but truth in her eyes.

"That was mean… I think you enjoyed that."

"Yeah, well… three years is a long time."

"It is," Lexa stops, willing her heart to stop running away with her mouth. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

It doesn't work.

Clarke's eyes widen.

She ignores the warning she heard years ago. Ignores the way her stomach sank with the thought of never seeing Clarke again.

This,

The way Clarke looks at her, so open and honest even though they're practically strangers.

This,

This is right. And good. And pure.

 _Real_.

Destiny.

"So, are you going to take me to breakfast or is this where I give you my number again and you lose it?"

Clarke's sass pulls Lexa from her daze, "Breakfast. And I'm giving you _my_ number this time."

"You're trouble, you know that?"

Lexa smiles again, Clarke cutting through all of it to the core of her. "I've been told that before, yes."

Clarke swings her arm through Lexa's elbow, "Good thing I like trouble. Come on, you're taking me to my favorite brunch place."

Xx

Being with Clarke is easy.

Like breathing.

As if Lexa has been underwater for her entire life until now, until this moment. Sitting across from Clarke and watching her laugh Lexa feels something inside of her come to life.

The first breath of air into lungs after breaking the surface.

She makes Clarke laugh, full and free, and feels important. Feels alive. Her body singing with the buzz of Clarke's voice, of Clarke's smile.

Clarke the artist, Clarke the girl who sees the world around her in a different light. Who has paint stains under her nails and a sparkle in her eyes.

She asks deep questions, skipping first date formalities and digging through Lexa.

And Lexa,

Lexa answers. Doesn't hide. Doesn't deflect or shy away from the hard truths of her life. Is stripped bare in a way she never has been before.

Her phone buzzes in her bag against her feet. Lexa ignores it, paying more attention to the beautiful girl in the booth across from her. Pays attention to how she talks with her hands, how she runs off on tangents when she speaks about something she loves, how she keeps looking at Lexa with this happiness on her face.

Lexa wants to kiss her.

Remembers exactly the way her lips felt, how Clarke moaned into her mouth the first time.

Wants nothing more than to do it again.

Than to take Clarke home and not let the day end.

Wants to build a life right here and right now with her, the final pieces of the puzzle snapping into place.

Everything feeling right and good inside her heart, her soul.

So caught up in Clarke, her voice, her questions, she doesn't hazard to remember the warnings that echoed through her head for months. Not caring anymore, not believing the harsh ramifications that could come with something so wonderful, so real.

Clarke's free spirit filling all the cracks Lexa never knew she had inside of her.

The bell on the front door of the cafe twinkles and Lexa looks up, nervous for the first time all morning. She's shocked to see Octavia walk through.

Octavia with an annoyed look on her face, "So this is where you've been hiding all morning?"

"How the hell did you find me here?" The first blip of stress, fear, cuts through Lexa's happiness.

"It's my job to find you. Did you forget you were announcing today? We're already late."

Lexa watches Clarke glance between the two. "You're announcing?" Her voice cuts through the tension. Lexa shifts in her seat and nods, a shy smile fighting through the nerves.

"I am."

Clarke laughs, "Why didn't you tell me? You should be prepping or something."

"Exactly," Octavia voices her displeasure. She steps back when Lexa glares at her.

"I have time. It's my announcement… can't be made without me. Breakfast is important, in fact it's the most important meal of the day."

Clarke blushes at that, shaking her head and looking at her lap. "Always with the lines."

"Lexa," Octavia cuts into the conversation again, her arms crossed and impatient.

"Alright, O. Jesus." She waves Octavia away and signals for the check. "Clarke,"

"Yes?"

"Do you want to come and cheer me on?"

"To your announcement?"

She nods, "Yes."

"Trying to show off for me?"

"I wouldn't dream of it." Lexa can't help but fall just the slightest bit more for the girl across the table who laughs at her cocky smile.

Xx

"I'm gonna go flag down the car, please don't disappear on me again." Octavia heads up the block, her steps determined and quick.

Lexa can feel Clarke looking at her, reaches over and grabs her hand pulling the girl towards her. "Thank you for letting me take you to breakfast."

"Was this a proper enough date for you?"

A smile, "It was."

Clarke grasps her hand tighter, her eyes deep and serious, "I woke up thinking about you today."

The way she says it, like a confession, like a secret she's been holding onto all day, settles inside Lexa. Sparks in her, her pulse quickening under her skin. Clarke steps closer, her warm breath hitting Lexa's face as they both smile. Lexa tilts her head ready to finally kiss Clarke again, ready to finally feel the perfect rush of those lips against her own when a phone rings loudly and startles them both.

Clarke's cheeks turn bright red, "Shit, uh… _shit,_ sorry." She shakes her head and pulls the offending phone from her pocket, rolling her eyes.

"It's ok," Lexa clears her throat and takes a deep breath.

"Fuck, I have to take this."

Lexa nods and Clarke slides the call open and steps away. She turns around to give Clarke more privacy and her eyes land on a familiar face across the street. Her stomach turning immediately,.

Anya.

Lexa shakes her head, the prickly fear of the white room, of the threat, returning and crawling up her neck.

Anya nods, a scowl in place.

The car pulls up before the restaurant slowly, Octavia lowering the rear window and tilting her head. Lexa hears Clarke finish up her call, walking back towards her.

"Lexa, I'm so sorry… I have to go."

Her eyes are sorrowful when Lexa finds them, "Is everything ok?"

"No, the contractor I use for my gallery can only come over now to fix the setting for one of my pieces and, honestly," she sighs, "It's just kind of a shit show."

Clarke runs her hands through her wavy hair and Lexa can see the tension and stress on her shoulders. "It's ok, Clarke. Go do what you need to do. Do you want to meet me later?"

"Yeah… I would." She smiles again, the stress shedding off of her for just a moment. Lexa feels that shaking in her chest again, proud that she was the one to do it. "Do you want to swing by my space? I'm not sure how long this whole thing is going to take, and then I can show you some of my stuff." She is quiet and shy, her eyes flitting down to the pavement and then back at Lexa.

Lexa grabs her hand again, squeezes her assurances there. "It would be my pleasure."

Before Lexa can breathe, can think, Clarke stands on her tiptoes and kisses Lexa's cheek. Lingering for a second, before sliding back down and smiling. "I'll see you soon, ok. Go make your big announcement… you can't keep the people waiting any longer."

Lexa blushes, flustered and shaken by the girl with the blue eyes and the wide smile. "Yes, ma'am."

Xx

Lexa barely hears the roar of the crowd gathered for her speech when she steps up to the podium. The usual adrenaline rush she gets from the noise, from the approval, doesn't come. Instead she thinks about the way Clarke's eyes looked so earnest when she asked her to stop by her gallery. About the warm breath that hit her lips when Clarke was so close.

Anything else pales in comparison to the way her heart stutters and doesn't know what to do when Clarke is near.

She begins her speech, humble and gracious. Humorous.

Not at all what she rehearsed.

She thinks about the last speech she gave, about the advice Clarke gave her in the bathroom and pauses. Wanting to impress this girl again. This girl she barely knows and yet feels inextricably tied to.

She goes off book. Octavia pacing offstage again. Indra scowling again.

She thinks of Clarke. How she asked her that day on the bus if she would run again. How she told Lexa she should. How she somehow believed that much in her already.

She cracks a smile, a real one. Not the fake one she plasters on for the public, but a genuine smile.

When she wraps up her speech, when the words finally spill from her lips that she's announcing her candidacy for another Senate run she feels accomplished. The excited energy of the crowd bites at the edges of her, sinking into the happiness she's felt all day.

The crowd moves closer to the stage when she steps away from the podium to wave and shake hands. There's a shuffle and a parting in front of her and when she looks up, she looks up at a bearded face.

One that haunts her.

His eyes are cold. Serious.

He nudges his head off to the side and Lexa understands. She shakes a few more hands and steps off the stage, wanting to run. Wanting to disappear and find Clarke. Afraid and nervous.

He pulls her elbow into the shadows, away from her security team.

"Alexandra."

"What do you want?" She spits through her fear.

"You know what I want. You cannot see her again."

"Fuck off."

"You can swear at me all you want, you can run, you can try to hide, but you won't find her. We won't let you get to her."

"Why do you keep doing this? You told me that already and she popped up plain as day this morning." Lexa struggles against the firm grip on her elbow. She spies Anya in the crowd behind Gustus.

"Love is weakness. Any alliance with Clarke will cost you everything."

"I don't care, my feelings for her are undeniable. I will not hide from them."

"That is precisely why she's dangerous, why you cannot see her again."

Someone in the crowd jostles into them and Gustus loses his grip on her elbow. Lexa backs away, courage burning in her belly, "Do whatever you want to me, but I will not stop seeing her."

She turns and walks quickly through the crowd, grabbing her bag from the wings and shrugging Indra off of her, "I'll do interviews tomorrow, I have to go."

"Lexa, you can't leave. You just announced, we called the media here _for this_. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I'm living."

"Lexa-"

"Work your magic, Indra. I don't care." She walks away before Indra can stop her, walks away before she thinks about anything but Clarke.

Her security guard clears a path for her. She shakes some hands and smiles, but doesn't stop, can't stop. She needs to find Clarke. Make sure she's real, alive, still Clarke.

Her car is waiting for her at the end of the pier and they both get in quickly. "Just drive, I'll tell you where in a second." She pulls out her phone to call Clarke but the number won't go through, won't ring. A pit settles in her stomach. "Fuck."

"Ms. North?"

"It's ok, Lincoln. Just keep driving."

She tries Clarke again, and the number rings and rings and rings for moments at a time. She hangs up and texts her, fingers frantic. The blue bar at the top of her screen never makes it's way all the way from left to right.

"Do you have your GPS?"

"It's broken, Ms. North."

"Of course it fucking is. God damnit!" She punches the seat in front of her.

"Is everything ok?"

"No. Just drive."

The browser on her phone won't open either and the pit in her stomach grows and growls, hungry. Ravaging itself on her happiness. They start hitting red lights at every block and sweat pools at the bottom of Lexa's back.

Clarke's face, her smile, her laugh slipping away. A glance out the window sparks an idea. "Lincoln, wait here. I'm going to run into that Starbucks for thirty seconds… _do not leave._ "

"Understood."

She jolts out of the car and sprints inside, breathless. "Hey, excuse me... Hi." Everyone looks up at her as she breaks the routine of the cafe. The steaming of espresso machines and the slow pop music her backdrop. "Sorry to bother you, but has anyone here heard of Clarke Griffin or been to her gallery? She's an artist… a painter."

There's some slight mumbling, and the blood rushing through Lexa's ears begins to die down. Hope slipping away.

"I have." A girl comes out of the back, her green apron stained and dirty.

"You have? Can you tell me the address?"

"I don't remember the exact address… it was in the East Village."

Another voice pops up, "I looked it up, It's on 9th, by the park."

"Thank you," Lexa looks at the barista, then at the boy in glasses at his computer, "Really… thank you."

"Are you?"

"I am… I can't stay, thank you so much guys. Make sure you're registered New York voters." She calls out over her shoulder as she leaves the cafe. Lincoln is still parked and waiting for her. "East 9th, Lincoln. Run any reds this time."

"You got it."

Xx

She expects chaos. Traffic jams. Accidents.

Instead, Lincoln makes it downtown quickly, nothing in her path. In her way.

It feels too easy, too free.

She swallows the nerves, the taste of bile that creeps up her throat. Trying to trust. Trust in the way Clarke makes her feel.

How right it is.

Lincoln pulls up in front of the gallery and Lexa's heart bottoms out. She adjusts her hair and steps out of the car, not at all prepared for what comes next. She wants to pause outside the door, assess the gallery and everything she sees through the window but she doesn't. Needing to see Clarke more.

Feel the other girl in her arms.

The door swings open easily and her heels click loudly on the floor. The white walls of the gallery clean and fresh. Lexa hears muffled voices coming from deep in the back and she steps further inside.

Canvases of all sizes hang on the walls. Different in scope, magnitude. Swirls of paint, of color adorn them. Fevered and hectic, calm and measured.

They pull her in. The life before her on the walls brilliant and beautiful. She's entranced and awed by the work, by the artist who brings it to life.

"You're here."

Clarke is behind her, watching her take in her work. Her head tilts down with a bashful half smile, the tips of her ears pink.

"Clarke."

Clarke steps closer to her, next to her. Their shoulders touching. "I was afraid you wouldn't come." A whisper, almost a breath.

"Why?"

"I don't know… I just had this strange feeling prickling at me all afternoon. That I wouldn't see you again."

Her stomach swoops and she feels that nervousness again, Gustus' angry face, cold eyes. Instead of wallowing in it, she reaches over and takes Clarke's hand again. Lets it ground her to the moment, to the reality before her.

"I'm right here, Clarke."

"You are."

Clarke places a hand on Lexa's neck and pulls her close, pulls her down. Kisses her. It's short and hesitant, a peck. It ignites a fire within Lexa. She closes the distance again and kisses Clarke like she's wanted to for years.

Like she's needed to.

Clarke grips her neck tighter with her free hand, her body against Lexa's. A sigh is swallowed by hungry mouths.

She can feel a strong heartbeat in her palm, pounding through ribs and muscle of Clarke's back. Clarke's tongue slips against her lip and she tilts her head and sinks further into the kiss. It's needy and insistent, calming and soothing.

It is everything a kiss is supposed to be.

Lexa never wants it to end. Wants to spend the rest of her life kissing Clarke Griffin. Feeling Clarke against her, next to her. The void inside of her for the past three years no longer empty, but filling with everything Clarke.

Overwhelmed and dizzy, she pulls away. Clarke's lips following her eagerly, not ready to stop. Small kisses continue against her lips, searching for more. She giggles and squeezes Clarke's hand. A dazzling smile on display before her when she opens her eyes.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"That was one hell of a kiss, North."

"I should hope so… I've been thinking about doing that since that night in the bathroom."

"Again with the lines?"

She laughs and kisses Clarke again, simple and light. "No lines, just the truth."

"I'll allow it. If it comes with kisses like that I'll allow it all the time." Her smile cuts through Lexa, sears into her soul. Pushes away any doubt, any fear that may linger. Clarke moves her hand from Lexa's neck, slinging her arm around shoulders once again. The weight familiar and soothing.

They stand for a long moment gazing at each other, smiling like idiots. Everything pulls into focus. There is a clarity to the world, a realness that wasn't there before.

Lexa can't fathom how blue Clarke's eyes are, can't place the color or begin to describe it. She merely absorbs it, tries to memorize it.

Clarke smiles and brushes her lips over Lexa's again, there's a tenderness to it that sinks into Lexa's bones. "Wanna see the gallery?"

Lexa just smiles against Clarke's lips and waits. Waits for Clarke to move away, to guide her through her space, her work. She doesn't. She takes a deep breath and settles her face in the crook of Lexa's neck. Her arm wrapping tighter around shoulders, hands gripping together, palm to palm. Her breath is warm, tickling sensitive skin.

"I'm glad you're here." Clarke breathes it out with a sigh and Lexa feels it everywhere. Zinging through her body.

Clarke's words sink into Lexa, true and deep. She feels them everywhere. A sense of wholeness. Of home.

Lexa knows that this is where she needs to be.

This, here with Clarke, gentle and slow and happy.

This is all she wants for a lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is still more to come! Feel free to hit me up on tumblr if you have any questions about this 'verse. I'm glad you're all still enjoying the ride!


	5. Interlude II

"It's out of our hands now, Anya."

You feel Gustus' strong presence behind you as you stare at the open book in front of you, North's plan changing in front of your eyes into something you almost can't read.

"What do you mean?"

"She went off book when she ran into that Starbucks. We didn't see that in her plan."

"People go off book all the time, doesn't mean it gets kicked upstairs right away."

He levels you with a look, "This one does. There wasn't even a hint of it that we could have stopped."

You don't respond, embarrassment burning through you. "Fucking chance, huh. When has that ever hit this hard? They go three years without seeing each other… everything stays on track and then _chance_. What were the odds on that?"

"You know how it is, kid. We can't be everywhere. These things happen."

"Why aren't we stopping it now, moving to the gallery?"

"The ripples are too great now. All she needed to do was see Griffin''s work and it would have been too much. But when they kissed…"

You nod. You've seen it before, the way kisses can derail entire plans. Entire weeks worth of work on your end.

"Gustus?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are we trying so hard to stop them? They met by chance _twice_."

He sighs, a heavy sad kind of sigh, "Sometimes I don't even know. I just know what's in the plan."

A spark of an idea flits through your brain, but you tuck it away. "Who's getting it now?"

"Titus."

"Well, shit."

"Yup."

You're not supposed to care for them, grow attached to your marks, your cases. But something about North has been different from day one. You bite your lip, ashamed and sad that you couldn't do your job, couldn't keep her on the path. Knowing that nothing will be the same, that this will be the end of everything good inside of North.

Titus is ruthless.

Titus has no heart.


	6. Four

Clarke walks her through the gallery, shy at first. Hesitant in a way Lexa has never seen her. But as they move through the space, as Clarke talks more about her pieces about her inspiration, she opens up. Becomes animated and colorful.

It's a sight to see.

Her hand flits around, pointing things out to Lexa. Explaining details that are hidden away in the swirls of paint on the canvas. Tells stories of how she came to find each painting. The frustration with some, or the way some flowed from her fingers like they were waiting for just the right moment to present themselves to blank canvas.

Clarke talks about her work space. Her favorite brushes and supplies.

Clarke talks and smiles and Lexa can't get enough.

Feels proud for no real reason other than this girl is living her dream every day. This girl is talking to her like she matters, like she is critical to the work on the wall.

Clarke walks her through the gallery and doesn't drop her hand. Keeps her connected, close, the whole time. Pauses to leave kisses on cheeks, on lips.

Lexa's heart doesn't know what to do with itself. Stuttering and stopping, running and rushing.

Falling, falling, falling.

When Clarke pulls her into the back with a sly smile, she's expecting another dirty makeout. But her hand is thrust forward in handshake when Clarke introduces her to her friend Raven.

"Ah, so we finally meet." Raven's face is smiling but her eyes hold a hint of warning.

"Be nice, Rave." Clarke warns, her hand still tightly in Lexa's. "Raven invited me to a party her friend is DJing tonight… wanna be my date?"

Lexa's eyes slide skeptically to Clarke for just a moment, ready to decline politely until she sees the look of promise, want, on her face. She swallows her reluctance, "A date, huh?"

Clarke nods, her smile nearly splitting her face, "If you want."

"Alright, you two… enough with the gross." Raven waves her hand in front of them, a look of disgust on her face. Clarke laughs and the lightness of it all slams into Lexa. "Although, you did earn points for swallowing your obvious squareness and agreeing to come tonight."

Lexa meets her eyes and sees the challenge in them before laughing with Clarke. "Noted."

After Raven retreats back to her work table Clarke pulls Lexa back to face her, her free hand sliding up Lexa's arm warm and solid against her bicep. "I have some work to finish up here… I'm actually opening a show tomorrow."

"You are?" Lexa melts at the bashful, quiet way Clarke tells her.

She just nods and bites her lip, "Yeah, so I need to make sure my placements are good. I shouldn't be too long, so you can go home and change and we can meet for dinner or…"

She stops and her eyes lock onto Lexa's, the question in them nearly bubbling over. "Or?"

"Or you could stay and hang out and help?" She scrunches up her face and asks it in such a way that Lexa wouldn't be able to say no, even if she wanted to.

"I'd like that."

"Yeah? You would?"

"Yeah," She kisses those lips again, "I would."

Raven yells "Break it up!" from her spot by the work table, but Clarke just giggles and pulls Lexa back in for another kiss.

Xx

Lexa helps Clarke lift and move pieces, adjusting the lighting and the ladders. She rolls her sleeves up and digs her hands in and feels like a part of Clarke's life in a way she wasn't expecting.

Raven blasts her loud music from the speakers as they work. Sings along loudly and off key, earning laughs. Clarke wiggles her hips to the beat and pulls Lexa's attention from whatever she's supposed to be working on.

When she gets caught staring, Clarke merely winks and walks away.

Lexa hears stories about Clarke's life. Her childhood growing up, her friendship with Raven. How they helped each other through some tough times. The death of Clarke's father, Raven's accident.

Raven's horrible breakup last year.

Clarke's calm, sane, logical breakup only months ago.

"You were engaged?" She almost chokes on the question, the room spinning for just a moment.

"I was."

Lexa tries not to let the heavy feeling sink back in and ruin the day.

"Lexa?" When Lexa looks up, Clarke is calm and steady. "It's ok. I didn't love him." She kisses Lexa's temple before rejoining Raven. It feels like a promise, like a revelation.

They work and order pizza. Lexa ignores the ringing of her phone for as long as possible before she steps away to deal with Indra's disappointment, Octavia's sass.

It rolls off her back.

Clarke comes up behind her and wraps arms around her waist, kissing her shoulder as she finishes up her mandatory phone calls. "I stole you away."

"I ran away."

"Did you miss anything important?"

"Nothing more important than this." Clarke turns her around in her arms, a smirk in place. "That wasn't a line, so don't even start with me."

"I know it wasn't." Her smile is real, serious. "Want to take the last walk through with me? Raven already left."

"Lead the way, Miss."

Xx

It's dark when they leave the gallery, the evening settled around them. They walk hand in hand down the street, connected in so many ways that neither want to voice. Clarke talks about how she picked the space. How she likes to walk through the park when it's nice out, sit and have coffee on the bench when she needs a second to breathe.

She leads Lexa towards the subway, a playful look on her face. "I forgot to tell you… the party's in Brooklyn."

"Brooklyn? You know I sent my car home hours ago."

"I can't believe you have a personal driver! What's the matter, Lexa? Too good for the subway?" She turns around to tease and yanks Lexa harder.

"He's a bodyguard. Security detail. I am running for a very important public office, you know." She jokes.

"I'm still judging you just a little bit." Clarke sends a sly look over her shoulder and Lexa swoons again.

"Judge away, I think you'll find that I'm _queen_ of the subway. Let's go Griffin, if you're dragging me to another borough this better be good."

The underground is warm and muggy, familiar. Clarke next to her waiting for the train feels right and good. Like a habit. Like they've waited for hundreds of trains together.

"I'm gonna be overdressed." It's almost an afterthought as Lexa finally remembers her formal wear, heels. The suit she still has on, the starchy shirt around her shoulders that's slightly damp with sweat from moving things around the gallery.

Clarke faces her, inches closer. "I like you like this."

"Like what?"

She doesn't answer, instead she slides her free hand along Lexa's collar. Thumbing the fabric, straightening it against her shoulder. A mischievous grin adorns her face as she unbuttons another shirt button.

"Happy."

The answer takes Lexa's breath away and hits her like a truck. Once the word leaves Clarke's lips, she feels it deep in her gut and knows it's true. She's happy. For the first time in forever she is really and truly happy.

Clarke watches the realization dawn on Lexa's face, letting her work through it patiently. The wind through the tunnel picks up and the train begins pulling into the station before Lexa can reply, before they can finish the conversation. The cars pop and squeak along the rails, drowning out everything else.

Everything but the way Clarke looks at her in that calm, patient way. She leans up and kisses Lexa's cheek again, pushing her towards the open subway doors. They stand together in the center of the car, holding the railing and holding each other. Their eyes flit between them, gazing at lips. Sliding away when it feels too real, too heavy for public. Commenting on stops and people bustling on and off.

Clarke asks her questions about growing up in the city, Lexa answers with her smirk in place. It was something she loved, the playground before her steel and metal and life.

The normalcy of being on the subway with Clarke feels good. Too good. Honest and real. Little things that people do all the time when they date, when they're in love.

"Our stop is next." Clarke shakes their conjoined hands, pulls Lexa from her thoughts.

She looks up at the map and laughs to herself. "Ah… good neighborhood." Clarke's furrowed brow makes her smile. "I grew up here."

They depart the train and climb the familiar stone steps, the fresh air getting sharper ahead of them with each step up. When they reach the top, Lexa surveys the neighborhood before her. The different shops and stores that stand where the ones from her memory used to. "I don't come here a lot."

"Why?"

"Hurts."

Clarke starts moving down the street, quiet and open.

"I went to school down there," Lexa points down the street they pass. "I grew up around the corner."

"We can go, we can leave… we don't have to go to the party."

"I want to go. It's ok, Clarke." She takes a breath, feels the steady support of the girl next to her. "Being here makes me remember what my life used to be like. Makes me remember the promise, the possibility that stretched ahead of me before my parents died. My mom was a teacher. She loved it, she always left books for me on my desk to read. Taught me how to think critically. I kind of spiraled a little bit… She was picking up my sister from school, they hit a patch of ice on the road and spun out. I've never seen my dad that lost."

"I'm so sorry."

Lexa nods and swallows. "My dad forced me to start joining clubs after school. He didn't know what to do with me… the petulant teenage daughter. I was trouble, I got into _so much_ trouble. We had a class trip to D.C. and he signed up to chaperone. Mostly because I think he didn't know how to be in that house by himself but, also to keep an eye on me. I remember sitting with him in front of the Capitol and taking it all in. Just the enormity of it, the grandeur. He just sat there with me in total silence for a long stretch of time. When he finally stood up he looked down at me and pulled off his sunglasses and smiled, told me that I could do anything I put my mind to… as long as I stopped fucking around." She pauses and smiles, remembering the way his face looked. So stern and tired.

"I saw how tired he was, how lost he was and I knew, I knew I had to get my shit together. For him and for me."

Clarke moves closer to Lexa, nudging their shoulders together. "He died during my freshman year of college. I took a year off and traveled, got some stuff out of my system. When I went back to school I was different. Focused. And now I try to live in a way that would make him proud, make both of them proud."

"I'm sure they are."

She continues after a breath, only just now understanding the weight of the words she just unleashed. "I didn't mean to get so deep. I haven't really ever told anyone all of that...it all just kind of… came out." She whispers the last part, realizing it only as it leaves her lips.

"Thank you."

Lexa sees the seriousness of Clarke's words in her eyes. The understanding. They walk in silence for another block until turning a corner, the music from the warehouse already booming.

"A warehouse party? In Brooklyn? Are you trying to make me look like a hipster?"

Clarke laughs, relaxing and picking up on the shift in Lexa's mood. "Tell you what, I'll race you. Last one to that light post over there buys the first round."

"No, no way. I'm wearing these stupid heels."

"Yeah, and you're a pro." Clarke steps away and quickens her step, turning around to face her and walking backwards. "What's the matter, Lex? Don't like a good challenge?"

Lexa's response is a quickened step, trotting to keep up with Clarke. "Only when they're fair." She playfully nudges Clarke out of her way and sets off again, her heels clicking on the pavement beneath her. The blisters she'll feel tomorrow worth it.

Xx

The party is loud, deafening. Booming.

The crowd rolling in waves through the lights, through the music. The sea of bodies warm and sweaty and entranced by the same thing.

Clarke pulls her towards the bar, orders two beers and yells Raven's name. The bartender nods and cracks open the bottles handing them over. The cold of the glass already refreshing in the humid air.

The way Clarke grins at her, a big cheshire cat grin, makes Lexa's knees wobble. She pulls her arm and leads her into the sea of dancers, moving closer and closer to the stage until they're drowned out by the bodies around them, ensconced in their own circle, their own world.

Clarke moving her body against hers sends Lexa to the moon. Fireworks popping in the air, her heart swooping to her feet. The way her lips move to sing along with the songs, to lean in close and talk to Lexa, the sweat and heat from her body waking up something animal inside Lexa's soul.

She let's go and loses herself in it.

Xx

Lexa isn't sure how long they stay.

She is sure that the smile Clarke gives her when she starts to loosen up, to dance with her and bounce in the crowd, is her new favorite smile.

She is sure that the way Clarke grips her and guides her through the crowd, keeping them close, connected, is her new favorite touch.

She is sure that that the way Clarke looks at her, like everything blooming between them is right and real and good, is her new favorite look.

When they find Raven and Raven's friend Monty, Clarke introduces her loudly over the roar of the crowd, the speakers. Raven pulls her into a half hug, teasing her and accepting that she's here with Clarke.

They dance and they sing and they laugh when people do double takes at Lexa.

And when Clarke finds a dark corner by the DJ booth and looks at her with that smile on her face, Lexa has to kiss her. And kiss her and kiss her. Her hand weaving into damp hair at the back of Clarke's neck. Clarke's lips following her lead, her hands gripping Lexa's waist. Pulling her closer and closer.

Clarke is mesmerizing.

Magnificent.

Her kiss is invigorating. Pulling and tugging at every piece of Lexa. Every blood cell, every atom.

The very essence of her being.

There is need on her lips, like she will never get enough.

Lexa kisses her fiercely, recklessly. Her skin and blood alive with the feeling of this girl in her arms, this girl who steals the smiles from her lips and keeps them for herself.

Wonders if she ever felt alive before this moment.

"Want to get out of here?" Clarke's breath is ragged and hot at her ear.

"Yes."

Xx

Here in Clarke's dark bedroom.

With Clarke's lips on hers, so sure and so steady.

With Clarke's hands on her, reaching under her shirt and scratching at skin.

With Clarke's breath, hushed and quick in her ears.

Here, Lexa feels the universe inside of her spark to life. Expand within her, pushing everything it has known to the outermost pieces of her skin to make room for this.

For Clarke.

Clarke kisses her like she may never get the chance to do so again. It makes Lexa shiver as she pulls her tighter, closer, asking her silently and with her mouth to trust in this. Trust in her.

Her hands are quick as she unbuttons Lexa's shirt, ripping it over her shoulders and tossing it to the floor. Her mouth never pulls away, never leaves Lexa's lips, Lexa's skin. Clarke's t-shirt follows quickly, her chest heaving in the light that filters in from the street outside. Lexa wants to taste every inch of her.

When every barrier is removed between them, Clarke guides Lexa to her bed. Lays down soft and gently in the middle, waiting. Waiting for Lexa to make the final move. Waiting for Lexa to breathe.

Her eyes lock on Lexa's so clear and open they tear through her. The thing inside her chest rattles again between her ribs, creaking and cracking itself free from the cage it called home for so long. When Lexa finally moves, finally feels Clarke's skin against all of her own, it's electric.

Lightning.

Clarke's lips find hers again. Languid, deep. A kiss to span time and space between them.

A kiss that feels like everything Lexa never knew about love.

Clarke's body beneath her is heaven. Her moans, her sweat, the way she looks up through hooded eyes to find Lexa. To pull her back to her mouth and kiss her again and again.

And Clarke's touch.

Clarke's touch shakes the very foundation of Lexa's soul while simultaneously strengthening it, steadying it.

It expands and expands and builds and builds within her, pouring over onto Clarke. Clarke who meets every touch, every feeling, every moan with her own. Who takes everything Lexa has and gives Lexa some of her own.

They twist and dance around each other feral and free, quiet and reverent.

The cry Clarke makes when it all becomes too much reverberates through every bone in Lexa's body.

Universes could be built upon the feeling of Clarke moving like a shadow over Lexa, ushering her to the stars.

Like seeing in color for the first time.

Everything leading up to this moment dull.

Pale whitewash and shades of gray.

It takes until the first hint of dawn begins showing it's face in the window next to Clarke's bed. The hues familiar to Lexa, companions on her daily runs.

And though they have had each other again and again, Lexa is insatiable.

Wondering if this is what it's really all about.

How it's all supposed to feel.

The reason people chase the high, chase intimacy.

Love.

She tangles herself up in Clarke, brushing her fingers lightly over skin that still holds the last lingering hints of their sweat. Allows her eyes to trace every freckle, every beautiful inch of Clarke's face. Smiles at the way Clarke's eyes droop in exhaustion. The happiness apparent in the serene way she looks back at Lexa. Puts her hand on Lexa's cheek and pulls her closer, closer, brushing her lips softly, softly. The contented sigh she releases as Lexa's head moves onto her pillow, sharing the same space, the same air, sends Lexa into a weightless sleep.

Xx

It's late when Lexa stirs.

She smells the unfamiliar sheets. Feels arms around her waist. Breathes in and smiles, stretching against the warm body behind her.

Clarke doesn't move, her breathing still steady and even.

Lexa slides out from her arms and surveys the sleeping girl, the smile she can still see on Clarke's lips. The messy blonde hair, the way the sun softens her skin even more.

She is otherworldly.

It takes Lexa's breath away.

The look on her own face in the bathroom mirror teases and taunts her, but she doesn't care. The feeling of life blooming within her chest too good to try to hide.

Clarke watches her as she walks back into the bedroom, awake and relaxed, a sly smile on her face. They don't speak for a long moment. Clarke's eyes move over her as she takes Lexa in, every last stretch of her skin. Her gaze is heavy, adoring, lusty. Warm honey fills Lexa's veins.

"Hi." Clarke's sleep ravaged voice is even raspier than normal. Lexa never wants to hear another sound ever again.

"Hi."

Clarke pulls up the sheets and waits for Lexa to crawl back in. When she does, she's met with eager lips on her cheek and a hand on her waist pulling her closer, pulling her so she's on her side and facing Clarke, their faces only inches apart.

"You're still here."

"I'm still here."

Lexa wants to lean in and kiss her again but Clarke is studying her face, blue eyes adoring.

Devout.

"I'm glad."

"Me too."

It's only then that Lexa finally closes the distance, finally feels those lips on hers again. Clarke breathes out against her and pulls Lexa closer. They sink into it for a moment, Lexa allows Clarke to roll her over and slide on top of her. Blissfully aware of how Clarke's body feels on hers, grounding her into the bed, into the moment.

And nothing else exists but this.

Xx

"I feel like I've known you for lifetimes." It's Clarke who breaks the silence first. Faint.

Breathless.

"Clarke?"

"When we met your eyes sent this shock wave through me. I feel like I've known you forever. Like I've always known you. This, you and me here in my bed, together, is bigger than the two of us. Bigger than anything." She struggles to keep her eyes on Lexa's face with her confession. They float around the room, the pillow, the sheets. But when she finally meets Lexa's eyes they are open and honest.

Lexa can't speak. Can't breathe. No longer feeling alone with the wholeness that fills her in Clarke's presence.

The wholeness encompasses both of them.

She squeezes Clarke's hip, nudges her nose against Clarke. "I feel that way, too."

"You do?" Clarke's voice holds a tinge of disbelief, shock.

"I do. From the first time I saw you. You were walking down the street and I was on the bus. I went to set my bag down and I looked up out the window and I saw you. You looked at me and the ground shook underneath my feet. Almost like the world righted itself or something."

"You saw me before the bathroom? That makes so much sense now." Clarke's smile is knowing and bright. She runs her thumb along Lexa's cheek.

"What does?"

"The way you looked so happy to see me, how you wanted to ask me what my name was… how charming and smooth you were."

"I was not charming and smooth, I had just lost an election."

"You're always smooth, Lex."

"I'm always telling the truth with you so I guess the truth is smooth." Lexa shrugs and Clarke laughs. Lexa's stomach fills with butterflies. "I like it when you call me that."

"You hate it when I call you smooth, Lex."

"No," she drops the hint of a kiss on Clarke's nose. "I like it when you call me _that_. Lex."

"Good."

"No one else has ever called me that, it's nice."

"Yeah, _well_ I guess we're even." Eyes crinkle with a smile as Clarke sighs, "I love the way you say my name."

"How do I say your name?" The butterflies threatening to explode from her belly.

"Reverently. Like it's your favorite word… I can't describe it, I just know I love it. No one says it like you."

She smiles, "Clarke."

"Well now you're just being smooth again."

Lexa nods and kisses the grimace off lips, rolling Clarke over. "Always."

Xx

"Are you sure you want me to go with you?"

Lexa pulls her attention from the buttons on her shirt back to Clarke, still disheveled and beautiful in bed. "More than anything."

"I have to shower, you'll be late."

"It's ok, Clarke. I'd rather be late and be with you than go alone."

Clarke laughs, "You're ridiculous."

"It's true though." Lexa shrugs, "Would it be weird if I said I wasn't ready for our date to end yet?"

"No." Clarke's voice is serious. When Lexa chances a look at her face she sees solemn truth there. Feels it in her bones.

"Where did you come from?" Lexa breathes it out, her mouth running away with her thoughts again. Clarke sits up on her knees and pulls Lexa back into her.

"I could say the same about you. It's like you materialized out of nowhere or something." Clarke's hand is soft on her cheek. Her eyes so very blue.

"It's like you fell from the sky."

Clarke kisses the disbelief from her lips once, twice. "Maybe I did." She whispers it against Lexa's mouth, running her nose over a cheek, down her neck.

"I've never felt like this before."

"Me either."

"You…" Lexa takes a breath, another confession bubbling up and out for Clarke. Only for Clarke. "You make me not care about any of it. The speeches, the applause...the damn election."

"Lex-"

"I mean it, Clarke. I know we just met. I know. It sounds crazy, I get it. But, I've been alone for so long… I've been so alone for fifteen years and then you-" Her voice cracks with emotion, the pain and the struggle of the past threatening to overcome her again. "You fill up that space inside of me. The one that I've been trying to fill, been trying to forget or push away. And I can't, it's always there. And then you…"

Clarke pulls her into a sweeping kiss. Pouring everything she can't say into Lexa's mouth. Lexa feels it, let's it fill her, wants to crawl back into the sheets she finally dragged herself out of and forget the interview, forget all of it except Clarke.

"Go get ready… I need to shower." Clarke smiles against her lips, humming and still not moving. Still glued to the bed, still leaning her forehead against Lexa's.

After another moment she pushes Lexa's shoulders back and leaps from the bed, laughing all the way to the bathroom.

Xx

"Will you have time to change after the interview before coming to the gallery?" Clarke looks at her skeptically, takes in the slightly rumpled suit from the day before as Lexa pulls it around her shoulders.

"Tired of this one? Do I smell?"

"Terrible. Haven't you ever heard of a shower, Lex?" Clarke walks by to pull shoes out of her closet and squeals as Lexa pulls her into her arms, attacking her neck with kisses.

"If I smell terrible you only have yourself to blame, it's your own soap in there."

Clarke laughs and curls into her. "It smells better on me anyway."

"Trust me, I have just the thing to wear for you later." She feels Clarke shiver against the husk in her voice, the breath on her neck.

"Good. Lots of important people will be there, I'm kind of a big deal. I need to show off."

"My old, ratty Cal shirt will be perfect. It's all worn in and comfy, got a nice little hole in the back of the neck." Lexa whispers it against her neck, dropping kisses along the skin she can't seem to get enough of.

"Lex…" Clarke tries to uphold the seriousness of the charade, she pats the arm Lexa still has around her waist signaling for Lexa to let go.

"So you just want me on your arm looking pretty?" Lexa shoots her a cocky smirk, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"You know it, babe." Clarke winks and Lexa can't take it. "Come on, you're really late for this."

"Fallon can wait. I've been on a few times before, the producer loves me… we're fine."

"Lex." The way Clarke says her name, like she's used to it, said it forever, takes Lexa by surprise. The ease with which they've moved around the small apartment, getting ready and teasing each other. Sharing small kisses and fighting the urge to fall back into bed. It's all wonderful.

Real.

Familiar.

A routine and pattern already ingrained in Lexa's blood, her DNA.

An old memory pulled up from the depths of her soul. That this person, this girl before her is the one, has always been the one. Tied to each other for centuries, their souls connected in a way that neither one of them can explain. Versions of each other falling in love in lifetimes they'll never know about.

She shakes it off, rolling her shoulders and straightening her jacket, the feeling lingering in the back of her mind."Ok, alright. Lincoln is waiting downstairs."

"That's more like it." Clarke kisses her on the cheek and smacks her ass and walks away from her before she can be pulled in for a longer kiss.

All Lexa does know is she wants to spend the rest of her life having mornings like this.


	7. Five

Clarke makes her laugh in the green room while the make-up artist touches up her face and curls her hair. It's light and fun. They joke with the PAs running around and Clarke grabs her a cup of coffee before she's whisked off to the wings.

"Good luck." She whispers softly, brushing her hand over Lexa's shoulder and settling on the couch.

When the interview is over the PA leads her offstage. "She's waiting for you in here." He opens the door and Lexa sees the same empty warehouse from years ago before her. Fear slices through her.

"No, _wait_!" She turns to leave but the door is shut, gone. She's alone in the strange space.

"Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you are?"

She spins to find a man she's never seen before, his gray suit and hat giving him away. He takes off his hat and jostles it in his hands, the lights shining on his bald head. "Who are you?"

"My name is Titus."

"Where's Anya?"

"Anya has been removed from this case. It's a shame, really. She was in line for a promotion."

"You gonna give me the spiel, too? I don't care, I will not hear this again."

"Yes, you will."

"Do whatever you want with me, I will not lose Clarke."

"Why do you think you are special, Alexandra? Why do you think you are different from billions of people on this earth, the billions we oversee, the history we've accomplished by doing our job?" He stops and steps closer to her, lowering his voice to a whisper.  "Everything you do, everything you say, elevates her."

"Because I know what I feel inside." She grinds her teeth and swallows the scream she can feel building, trying to remain calm. "I know that it's real. That it's right."

"Love is weakness."

"I will never believe that."

"Then you are a fool."

Xx

She wakes up sprawled on her couch, no memory of how she got there. She remembers yelling at Titus, clenching her fists and aching for Clarke.

It's dark in the room, cold. She knows she's late for the event without even looking at the clock.

She rips her shirt off, throws her pants to the side and pulls the dress out of her closet, calling Lincoln on speaker as she does. There aren't any messages from Clarke, no missed calls. Nothing.

Lexa fights against the dread that threatens, the thoughts that scream inside her head about why her phone screen is blank. Devoid of the girl who makes her smile, makes her feel alive.

Lincoln picks her up in five minutes and speeds away from the curb. Her heart pounds in her ears, her stomach ties itself in knots. She barely breathes the entire ride to the gallery.

It's crowded. Loud. There are people milling around everywhere, studying Clarke's work, her soul. The room is stuffy and warm and does nothing to quell the unease that won't let go of her. She searches the room, squeezing through people. Trying to remain inconspicuous, unknown.

It doesn't work.

A loud woman recognizes her and pulls her into a group of people before she has time to react, her grip firm and demanding on Lexa's elbow. She has to be polite, has to make small talk, has to remember her public image.

But all she wants to do is find Clarke. See her, hold her, kiss her.

She lets the woman next to her drone on for another twenty seconds before she interrupts her and excuses herself. Searching the crowd for that blonde hair, those blue eyes. She can't breathe, can't think. Anxiety mounting with every step through the gallery without Clarke.

Until she turns around an exhibit and sees her standing there. A champagne glass in hand, laughter on her face, everything about her magnificent.

And Lexa is dumbstruck.

Rooted to the spot.

Because as much as she needed to find Clarke, needs to feel her, kiss her. She can't help but watch, entranced by this girl in her element. This girl doing what she was put on this earth to do. It's enthralling in a way Lexa never knew life could be.

Clarke's eyes slide over to her, and her smile changes. Still wide, still full, but private. Meant only for her. She winks at Lexa and nudges her head, silently beckoning her. Her eyes slither down Lexa's body, widening as they take in her dress, her legs.

Lexa's heart stops in her chest when they return to lock on hers, lusty and full. That warm honey fills her again, drips from every pore. She steps up to Clarke with a smile on her face.

Clarke who immediately places an arm around her waist.

Clarke who pulls her closer.

Clarke who introduces her to the gentleman she's speaking to, trying to sell her artwork.

He offers to pay over the asking price and the grip on Lexa's waist tightens, excitement palpable. When he steps away, she sneaks a quick kiss on Lexa's cheek, wiping away the lipstick she left behind.

"Hi."

"Hi." Lexa finally feels like she can breathe. Clarke looks at her like she always has, like Lexa is full of promise, possibility.

"You're late."

"I am, but I look nice."

Clarke's eyes darken again, "You look ravishing, Lex."

Lexa's hands tingle and a blush creeps up her neck. "Who's the sweet talker now?"

"I never said I wasn't." She laughs and pulls Lexa in for a short peck, quick but tender. Familiar and worn.

The kind of kiss that feels like it was shared for ages between them.

"How has it been going?"

"I sold five pieces already, I didn't think that guy was going to buy this one but maybe you're good luck."

"Good thing I'm here now then, let's see if we can get more sold and on their way out." She buzzes when Clarke rolls her eyes at the cocky grin she puts on display.

Clarke squeezes her waist again and guides her towards the bar set up in the back, "Do you want champagne? Wine?"

They walk through the crowded room and Lexa finally takes it all in. Sees how many people showed up for Clarke, how many interested patrons there are. "Is it weird for you?"

"What?" Clarke hands her a glass of champagne and clinks her own glass against it, sipping while Lexa thinks.

"Just… letting all these people see so much of you, see your soul. Take it home and place it on their wall or in their office. Is it weird?"

"Yes, but it's the only thing I've ever wanted to do." Clarke says it with such quiet conviction that Lexa falls even harder for her in that moment. "I want to show you something." She grabs Lexa's free hand and leads her to the largest wall of the gallery, a shy smile on her face. The same one she gets when she's revealing a new bit of herself to Lexa.

They stop before a large canvas soaked with navy and midnight blue. Tiny dots and stars adorn the top. Along the side, the outline of a woman's body. Half of it cutting into the dark, the night. Pure white, shining like a beacon of negative space on the canvas.

Lexa hears herself gasp as she takes it all in, something moving inside of her as she looks at the painting. It pulls at her, tugs her closer. Something familiar about it. She takes it in with her eyes but feels it everywhere. "Clarke…" It's barely a whisper of a word that leaves her mouth.

"I painted this after I met you…. That night I went home, after the bathroom, after your speech and it poured out of me. I almost trashed it, wanted to tear holes in it and throw it away so many times." She stops and takes a deep breath, "I never knew why I couldn't. It's been in storage, hiding away and haunting me."

"It's… this…" When she tilts her head to look at Clarke she finds her already looking at her. Her eyes open and honest, unshed tears making the blue stand out even more than usual. Clarke dips her head in that bashful way again. Her feelings out in the open, streaming through the space between bodies.

"This is the only piece not for sale tonight."

"It wasn't here yesterday." Lexa can hardly think, cannot begin to fathom the depths of what this girl must feel for her, how it matches the current she has running inside of her. The one whispering _Clarke_ as it races through her blood.

"No, I had Raven pull it out of storage this morning and hang it. I wanted you to see it after," She takes another deep, steadying breath, "After… I just, needed you to see it."

"Clarke, I..." Lexa takes a step towards her, wants to pull her close and hold her tight, kiss the red cheeks on display for her.

"You've ruined me." It's barely a whisper that sneaks out from her lips, but it's there.

Lexa opens her mouth to speak, to try to respond to the truth laid bare before her, but Clarke leans close and places her fingers against Lexa's lips, quieting her.

"Once I felt even for _a moment_ what I felt for you, that was it. You ruined me. And it was only moments together, you and I, and suddenly I didn't want to settle for less. Nothing felt right, nothing felt real. Nothing felt as easy and as perfect as sitting on the bus with you or teasing this perfect stranger in the bathroom. I don't want to settle for less."

Clarke moves her hand from plush lips and Lexa wants to kiss her. Wants to hold her. Wants to say with her body what she cannot with her words.

She doesn't get the chance to before someone calls out for Clarke, pulling her attention away from Lexa and cutting through the heavy moment. She smiles small, apologetic, before stepping away.

"Duty calls." Another brush of lips against Lexa's cheek, a whiff of her perfume, and she's weaving her way back through the crowd before Lexa knows what hit her.

She watches Clarke as she turns on her charm, her polite smile.

Her steps sure and steady through the gallery.

And she watches it happen in slow motion. Watches as the heel on Clarke's shoe snaps, as she loses her balance and falls to the ground landing hard on her favored left arm. The cry of pain loud, guttural, silencing the talking crowd. She rushes to Clarke before anyone realizes what happened, blood pounding in her ears and that same hot dread coursing through her.

"Clarke, _Clarke_!" She kneels down and sees Clarke's face, wrenched in pain. Her breathing heavy, labored. She runs a soothing hand over Clarke's face, drawing her focus.

"Something is wrong, Lex." It's a quiet admission through gritted teeth.

"I'm gonna get you to the hospital, ok." She looks up and finds Lincoln in the crowd. He nods and leaves the gallery quickly. "Can you stand?"

"I think so…" Hands help steady Clarke on her feet. She grunts and grumbles as pain moves through her, her shoulder and elbow looking odd, unnatural. She toes off her shoes and the crowd clears a path for her.

Raven shoves her way over to Clarke, worry etched on her face. "I'll stay and close up, text me where you're going, ok?"

Clarke nods and grips Lexa's hand tighter as they move towards the door. The tears only come once they're outside in the night air. Clarke tries to remain stoic, push through, but a slow stream works its way down her face.

" _Clarke_ ,"

Clarke grips her hand tighter, pulling her closer. Lexa drops a kiss against her forehead, fevered with pain. Lincoln pulls the car up the curb quickly, hopping out to help Lexa maneuver Clarke into the backseat. Once Lexa is seated, Clarke curls into her body, aching and angrily brushing the tears off her cheeks.

All Lexa can do is remain strong. Quiet. Steady and warm.

Fighting against the hot anger she feels inside. The echo of love is weakness that won't leave her head.

Xx

They gather Clarke for tests after an hour in the emergency room. After an hour of Clarke's tight grip on her hand, Clarke's whimpers of discomfort, Clarke's strength dwindling down, the pain chipping away minute by minute.

And Lexa is left alone in the waiting room.

The television blares in the background unwatched and annoying. She can't focus, can't stop moving. Pacing.

Clarke didn't want to let go of her hand. A pleading "Lex," the last thing from her lips as she was wheeled away through the double doors.

An icy fear fills her stomach with every minute they're apart. Lexa can't fight the feeling that this is bigger than a shitty pair of heels. That this is _their_ work, a twist of the knife. She pushes the thought away, checking the time on her phone again, answering Raven's texts on Clarke's as she waits for Lincoln to collect her.

"It's a sprain and a dislocation." A gravelly voice. Lexa expects to see a doctor when she looks up, but instead it's Titus.

A chill runs down her spine.

"So it was you, then?" Her mouth is so dry she barely gets the words out.

He nods, "I told you, it's not just your life you're messing with. Not just your path."

She shakes her head, unwilling to believe it. "Why do you care so much? Why can't I just be happy?"

"You are bound for greatness. We are _so close_ to our goal."

"Why did you have to hurt Clarke? Hurt me instead." Her voice cracks as she yells, finally letting the stress, the fear show.

"You won't hear it any other way. If you stay with Clarke, if your paths were to place you together, it would be the end of her career. She'd be stuck teaching children how to finger paint in public schools, wasting her talent, wasting her destiny."

"Why would she have to choose? Why can't we just be together and support each other? Not everything is that black and white!"

"She could be one of the premiere artists of this age, Alexandra. But if Clarke spends her life with you, that never happens. She will waste away, growing to resent you. Losing any spark of love she might feel." He pauses, "Your desires have had worse consequences."

"What do you mean?"

"Your sister was never supposed to die like that, it wasn't part of her plan."

His words are meant to hurt. Spit out with venom. She gasps for breath as the room spins around her. Trying to make sense of his warning, his confession.

"You wanted her home from school, wanted her to come to that swim meet. Begged and pleaded your parents to get her, do you remember?"

Cold and clammy, something grips in her chest and doesn't move, "What are you saying?"

"Do not make Clarke pay for your mistakes as your sister did."

Lexa moves without thinking, her clenched fist acts of it's own accord, slamming into Titus' face. He stumbles backward, caught off guard. A ferocity awakens inside her, protective and angry. "Get out."

He stands there stupefied for another beat, opening and closing his mouth clearly shaken. "Very well. But if you care for Clarke you will send her away... _you_ will walk away."

She wants to scream, yell, wail on him. Fight the universe and everything in it. Listens to the blood pounding and pounding under her skin, the adrenaline rushing through her. The adrenaline that hasn't stopped since Clarke fell.

Instead she walks to the information desk to ask for some ice for her throbbing hand.

Xx

"Lex…" Clarke looks so small on the hospital bed, so pale under the harsh forgiving lights.

"Hey." She steps up to the bed and grabs Clarke's uninjured right hand, brushing her fingers over the palm.

"You're here."

"Of course I'm here." She breathes out a sigh, kisses Clarke's forehead.

"Your hand?" Clarke takes stock of the bruised knuckles, the blood that hasn't washed away.

"I got in a fight with the vending machine."

"Lexa."

"I'm ok, I'm ok. Are you ok?" Her voice cracks and she tries to remain strong.

"It's just a sprain and a dislocation. I'll be back to work in no time… good thing I sold some paintings tonight."

Lexa tries to smile, tries to force relief onto her features but she feels tight. Duty sitting on her shoulders. Duty to this girl and her dream, her life.

As much as she wants a life with Clarke, she wants everything _for_ Clarke. Everything possible. Everything imaginable.

"Hey... hey, Lex," Clarke's voice is soothing, she runs her thumb over Lexa's hand. "Please get out of your head, I'm alright."

"I know," Lexa barely chokes it out, her eyes stinging with everything she's holding back. "I know. It was a crazy day."

Clarke nods, "Please kiss me."

Clarke's lips are so soft, reassuring, when Lexa presses against them. A valley splits in her heart. Darkness swallowing her down. She lingers there, breathing Clarke in. Feeling the warmth of her skin, the tickle of hair against her cheeks. She presses her lips against Clarke's once more before standing.

The way Clarke looks at her, meets her eyes, is electrifying. She is zeroed in, aware of Lexa's skittish behavior. Lexa clears her throat, pulls Clarke's phone from her clutch. "Raven's been blowing up your phone."

"Is she on her way? Did she say anything about the show?"

"Lincoln went to pick her up, she should be here any minute."

"You sent your bodyguard to get my friend?" She teases and Lexa feels light again for a breath, a second.

"I did. Having a body man has it's perks."

"I guess so." Clarke looks at her phone, the open conversation Lexa carried on in her absence. "Thank you."

Lexa can't speak, her throat constricting with everything she's about to do. Everything she's about to walk away from. The life she wants in the palm of her hand.

"Lex?"

Lexa shakes herself out of it. "I have to go make some calls and I want to see if I can find you something to eat, ok?"

"Lex, I'm fine. Please-"

"Clarke, I must attend to some things…" She curses herself for the formal tone. Hates the shadow that flickers across Clarke's face.

"Ok. If you find peanut M&Ms you'll know what to do." She watches as Clarke tries to ease the tension that she can feel, even if she can't place.

She dips down and kisses the top of Clarke's head once more, the perfume and shampoo a heady combination of everything she's leaving behind. She steps away from the bed and only releases Clarke's hand when she can't hold on any longer. When the distance is too far for both of them to stretch.

She barely makes it out the double doors of the ER before tears are streaming down her face.


	8. Interlude III

You do take a vacation.

You watch Titus squash the hope that has built up in North with a few twists of his knife and you see her break. She recoils and falls, taking a bullet to the gut.

You swear you feel it in your own.

And you get out of town.

Sit on a beach with a margarita and soak up the sun.

You can't stop thinking about her though. About how everything seemed to click for them, about how chance stepped in the way more than once.

About chance in general. How your job is so clearly defined to try to fight it, to try to keep everyone where they need to be. But that sometimes, sometimes life explodes before you and rears up, fighting back.

Fighting the control, the consistency.

It used to be refreshing when it happened.

Once in a while it would take hold of a case and send it on a new path.

With North… with North it sent her down the same path twice. The same one that lead to Griffin.

The idea that sparked in your brain when you were taken off the case, the one you buried when they kissed at the gallery, wiggles it's way to the forefront of your thoughts.

_What if?_

You get back and find new cases on your desk. A few small ones to start with. Gustus tells you that you're still in good standing but you're not sure you believe it.

It's easy, so easy to find North.

She's been running her campaign and practically living on her bus, stopping in towns all over the state. She looks lost, defeated.

She should look happy, calm. Composed.

It's what is supposed to happen for her.

Senate.

Cabinet seat.

Presidency.

But she is a shell of the girl you knew, the girl you oversaw for years. Her eyes are dull, her words are listless even in front of a crowd. Nothing reaches her heart.

That idea takes hold of you again and you stay late one night. Find your way down to the archives and search through the dusty shelves. The light is dim down here, the air dank and heavy. No one comes down here unless they have to, and even then it's with the right file number in hand and as quickly as possible.

You, you need to search.

You find North's file and pull it, taking it with you and searching for Griffin's. It's in another section, another room. It's slimmer than North's, lighter. You take both to the small desk at the back and switch on the light.

You open North's first, moving through the pages. Old versions of her plan before you, old ideas and events the Chairman had for her that never happened. Her file is filled with many changed plans, more than you've seen in a long time.

Pages and pages of changes, of interventions.

It's… puzzling.

You flip to the back and pull out the oldest one, the original plan. Griffin is all over it.

From the very beginning it's her and Griffin.

Friends.

Lovers.

Partners in everything.

You let out the breath you were holding, flipping to the next oldest. Griffin again.

You lay them out side by side, oldest to newest.

Griffin.

Griffin.

Griffin.

It was always supposed to be North and Griffin.

You're not sure if you feel happy or relieved or angry. You theory proven right on the pages before you and yet the consequences so harsh, so real in the moment, in their lives.

"What changed?" Your words bounce off the dust coated walls and fall flat. You move to Griffin's file. There are only two versions of her plan in here. North is everywhere, all over them both just as she is on North's.

"Damnit," You slam the file shut, throw North's all back in her folder and place them back where they belong.

It's all Griffin. Something in Griffin's life changed her course, changed the course for both of them, and yet, their paths were so entwined together from the start they can't fight the pull to each other even in the present.

You pull out your phone and press the name before you can rethink it. The voice on the other end isn't happy when the ringing stops.

"Please don't give me shit, I need your help."


	9. Six

Seven months.

Seven long months of throwing herself into work. Campaigning full stop. Tiring herself out enough that she can pretend she sleeps at night.

Pretend that she did the right thing.

Indra scans her with skeptical eyes every morning, but never says a word. Octavia buys her more coffees than usual. Lincoln helps get her up to her apartment or the hotel room on the nights when it's too much and her body just won't work.

But every night without fail she stares at the ceiling in her bedroom. Unable to shake the look in Clarke's eyes at the hospital. The guilt that has made a home in her ribcage. The love that still flows freely through her bloodstream.

Every day the same.

Every day grueling.

Every day empty without Clarke.

Xx

"You're fifteen points up." Octavia hands her a fresh cup of coffee as she steps away from the small crowd and cameras that came to her speech.

"Even I can't blow a lead that big."

"Lexa-"

"It's fine, I'm fine."

"Ok, well we have the stop in Syracuse later tonight, so get some rest on the bus alright."

She snorts into her coffee cup.

Lincoln is sitting on a bench under a sprawling tree working on a crossword and she makes her way to him. Craving his steady silence, his strength. He never asks questions, never looks at her like she's falling apart.

"Youngest member of Congress, fourteen letters."

She smirks as she sits next to him, "That can't be an actual question on there."

He flips the page up and points to number 33 Across.

"Shit… _wow_."

"You're a rock star, you know that right?"

"And yet I manage to put my pants on just like everybody else, one leg at a time."

He laughs quietly and returns to work, his pen moving deftly along the page. She helps him with clues when he's stuck, but they sit in friendly silence as everyone prepares the campaign bus for the next jaunt.

When the puzzle is finished, he stands and stretches, checks his watch. Reaches down to the bench and grabs a folded article from underneath the perused paper. "There's something you should see."

"You're handing me news articles now, too? Octavia got you working for her?" She teases, trying to stay light, stay in the bubble that existed until a second ago.

"No, Lexa. I just wanted you to hear it from me I guess." Not even the mention of Octavia's name softens the serious look on his face. He deposits the folded page on her lap and walks away.

She stares at it, a bomb on her legs. Something waiting to explode and shatter the semblance of a life she managed to piece together. Anxiety and curiosity tingle up her spine until she can't handle it anymore, setting the coffee aside and flipping open the page.

 _Clarke_.

A full spread, above the fold in the _New York Times_ Arts section.

Her face, brilliant and beautiful as always.

Her gallery, her work.

A small picture of her at the bottom with a floppy haired boy, a diamond ring clearly on display on her left hand, a date printed just below the picture.

Her heart stops working.

Her lungs ache inside of her as they hold on to air for too long.

The world stops around her as she takes it all in. Skims the article. Ringing in her ears, stomach knotting itself into oblivion. Everything feeling wrong, so wrong.

Her heart breaking inside of her and opening up to swallow her whole.

"Lexa, it's time to go." Lincoln, his voice gentle. Coddling.

She stands and rears on him, snarling. " _Why did you do this?_ "

"You needed to know."

"No, no I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You're not in this anymore, you don't want this. You haven't wanted this since we started the campaign. You owe it to yourself to follow your heart."

"She's getting _married_ … she's getting married in less than twenty four hours! What do you expect me to even do?"

"Fight."

It's there, so clearly on the tip of his tongue. Spreading out in the air between them. Fight. Forget it all, forget the threats, forget the plan. Let it all go and follow the only thing that feels right, feels good. The only thing that ever has.

"Take me back to the city, tell them I'm sick."

Xx

There's a note sitting on her countertop.

Simple.

Her attention is drawn to it the moment she turns the key in the lock and opens the door, everything still sparse and spartan in her apartment even though she's lived here for years.

She sets her bag down at her feet and silences the phone in her hand that hasn't stopped ringing with obligations. She pulls her jacket off and shakes some of the rain from the shoulders before hanging it on the doorknob.

Everything in her wanting to read the note. Everything in her screaming not to.

She slides off her shoes and pours herself a glass of water before turning her attention to it.

The small piece of paper is adorned with an elegant script, befitting another era. The message is simple. Pier 17, 6:30.

Xx

"Here to bring me in? Collect me for reset? Scold me into oblivion?"

Anya shakes her head, "No. I'm here to help you."

"Why?"

"I have my reasons." She shrugs and nudges her head to the door behind them, opening it up and pulling Lexa inside. "You're going to go to her..."

Lexa doesn't answer, but the truth is written on her face, in the defiant way she challenges Anya.

"You're lucky that no one has been following you for a minute, that would have set off alarm bells like you wouldn't believe."

"Have I been alone?"

"For the most part, since a few weeks after the hospital."

She rolls her eyes, feeling the slice of acute heartbreak rip through her again. "Figures."

"I've been popping in," Anya admits, holding her gaze.

"You have?"

"I meant it when I said you were different. I also meant it when I said I would help you."

"How?"

"By teaching you our methods," She holds up a briefcase and shakes it, "We don't have long and you're going to need to be ready. Good thing you left the heels at home."

"Anya, how can I trust you?"

Her posture changes and her shoulders drop, she looks more human than ever. "I know it hasn't always seemed like it, and I know the first time we met I was more than harsh but, believe it or not, I have always been on your side."

Lexa shakes her head, works her jaw, not wanting to believe. Not having any reason not to.

"I went through your file. Not the one I knew by heart because it was the plan before me, but the old ones. The versions of the plan the Chairman changed. We save them all in the archive, it's helpful sometimes to go back and look at older versions but no one ever does." She stops and shrugs, "We're creatures of habit, we do what we're told."

"Is that why I feel this pull…"

Anya nods, "I can't say a lot, but I can say this. You need to find Clarke."

Lexa gapes at her, trying to come to terms with everything. With her misery, with Clarke's wedding, with the fact that Anya is here trying to help.

"Come on, let's go downstairs. There's an office and a coffeepot and we're surrounded by water. I'll tell you what I can." Anya walks away, leaving Lexa alone to decide. Trusting that she'll either follow or won't.

Lexa stands there and runs her hands through her hair weighing her options, trying to remember the exact shade of Clarke's eyes. "Ok," She breathes it out and follows Anya downstairs.

Xx

Anya hands her a steaming cup of coffee as she studies the open binders on the table before her. "I know, it's a lot to take in."

"Ok, let me get this straight. All of these doors are part of some kind of stream. Portals all over the city that connect to each other in a weird, twisted way."

"Yes."

"And moving through them allows you to travel the city, jumping from location to location in an instant."

"Yes."

"Are they ever locked?"

"Not when you're wearing one of our hats." Anya gestures to the beanie folded on the table next to her.

"And only the Bureau knows about these portals, this stream?"

"Yes. It's how we navigate the world, how we cover everything we need to cover as quickly as possible."

"Are you sure this is real life? Magical doors that open miles away from each other as long as you're wearing a hat?" Lexa can't hide the skepticism even though she knows what the Bureau is capable of.

She smiles, "Yes. When you put it that way it sounds silly."

"It is. This is…" Lexa stops, not knowing what anything is anymore. Her eyes opening to the strange reality she now embodies in a way she can't even begin to understand.

"Lexa," Anya waits for Lexa to look up. "I know. _I know…._ Are you prepared to do this?"

"More than anything," Lexa's voice cracks, "Whatever it takes, ok? Whatever it takes."

Anya opens another binder, "Your father used to say that."

Lexa's heart stutters, "You knew my father?"

Anya glances back up at her and the answer is written all over her normally stoic face.

Silence settles around them for a long moment.

"It shouldn't be this hard." Lexa breaks the silence, the quiet truth she's carried around for months finally out in the open.

"What shouldn't?" Anya is softer than she's ever been, quiet and understanding in a way that almost looks foreign on her.

"Loving someone." It's barely a whisper from her mouth, barely travels the short distance to Anya.

"No, it shouldn't." Anya sighs," They don't want you together because _she_ is enough."

Anya smiles at Lexa's confused face, waits for the realization to set in before she continues.

"Clarke is enough for you. She's it. She's enough. If you have her you don't care about politics, about applause or leading people. She's all you can see."

"She is, she _is enough_. She's been enough from the moment I met her. From the second our eyes met. Joke's on them because even without her, campaigning and feeling like my heart is shattered inside of me she's _still_ enough. Still the only thing I want. I don't give a damn about any of it. She's it."

"And that's why I'm here to help. You're different Lexa, your case… your files… Clarke's file was so thin," She clears her throat stopping herself from saying anything further, "I need to help."

Lexa turns the words over in her head, how quietly Anya spoke. How hard she's working to show Lexa what she needs to know. "I'm guessing you're not supposed to identify with your subjects? Feel guilt or pain or happiness."

Anya takes another deep breath, "No. We're not built to lead with our emotions like you are. But that doesn't mean we don't have them." It's a quiet admission but Lexa feels the weight of it settle on her shoulders.

"Some more than others…"

The look she receives nearly knocks her over. The truth so bare and open on Anya's face. The reality of everything. She feels connected to her in this moment. Understands that she is not the only one risking everything.

Xx

They work the plan over and over.

Streets, doors, cross streets, back up plans in case agents are after her. She has three workable ways to get her down to the courthouse. She can see all the doors she needs to use flashing through her head like a strange movie.

"Ok, what if Titus is on Crosley?"

"Then I make a right and take the third door on Lafayette, the white one."

"Wrong, it's a left there." Anya snaps.

Lexa snarls in frustration, pounding on the table. "This is too much, you've got me zigzagging all over the damn place."

She knocks the binders to the floor and storms away, hands tugging on her hair. She takes a few deep breaths and steadies herself before walking back to the table. "Let's start again."

"Lexa, I need you to understand that this has never been done before. _Ever_."

"I know."

"No, I mean as soon as you walk through that door everyone will be trying to stop you. No human has had this kind of access, this kind of ability."

"Anya, I get it. The stakes are high no matter what. I'm risking everything for her any way you look at it."

"Yes, you are. And you're going to have to assume everyone with a hat on is a threat, is working for Titus. I don't care what kind of hat it is."

"So, even you guys can't get through the doors without a hat right?"

"Yeah."

"What if I just knock it off anyone who tries to stand in my way and keep running before they have time to pick it up and put it back on?"

Anya chuckles to herself, "That's good… that's really good, actually. We don't do well with spontaneity."

Lexa nods, pleased with herself. She glances at her watch, surprised at how time has flown by. "We only have an hour left."

"We do."

"Anya, are you sure there isn't a faster way? More direct?"

"There is."

"Will you show me?"

"Lexa," Anya hesitates.

"Whatever it takes, Anya." Lexa stands resolute.

Anya picks up a binder off the floor and flips through the laminated pages of doors before stopping and pointing to a big blue one. "The fastest way is through this blue door."

"And then?"

"And then nothing. You'll leave here, run as fast as you can for three blocks to this door, and you'll be in the Courthouse."

"I want to do it that way."

Anya shakes her head, "You'll be exposed the whole way, Lexa. They'll see you the second you move, it's too dangerous. It's better to leapfrog through the other doors like I've been showing you."

"Yeah, but if I make it I'll take them completely by surprise. It gives me the best shot, you just said you guys can't handle spontaneity."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"You're gonna have to run like hell."

Xx

Lexa stares at her watch, frantic and buzzing. "Anya, the wedding is in ten minutes... "

"We're right on time. Being too early is just as bad as being late, trust me."

"I do trust you."

"Ok. Deep breath, are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Once we get out that door you'll be on the street. I'll give you my hat and you're going to run like hell for three blocks. The blue door will take you right to the hallway outside the courtroom."

"I know."

"Room 301."

"Right."

"Remember, don't make up your mind about what you're going to do with Clarke until you're with her, ok? They'll see it and stop you otherwise."

Lexa nods, swallowing that familiar feeling that creeps back up.

"It's time. Hold on to my shoulder until we're through the door, you have to keep touching me or you'll split. Don't forget- turn the knob clockwise. Counterclockwise is just for us."

"I got it, I got it, let's go." Lexa grips Anya's shoulder and waits for her to turn the knob.

"You're lucky, it just started raining again. That buys you some time, kid."

Anya opens the door and they stand on a completely different block in downtown Manhattan. It's jarring, even though Lexa expected it. Anya whips off the beanie and hands it to her. "Showtime. Get moving."

Lexa nods and pulls the hat over her head, turning and setting off at a run down the nearly empty side street. Her feet pound against the pavement and the blood rushes through her ears, her lungs working to keep her breathing as the rain pelts her face.

And yet all she can think about is Clarke.

She hears footsteps behind her, doors slamming as she runs, but she doesn't stop. Doesn't slow.

Doesn't look back.

She's a block away from the door when someone grabs her arm, tries to pull her aside. The boy. The one who burned her coffee cup and deleted Clarke from her phone so many moons ago. She struggles against his grip, before yanking the Jets hat off his head and pushing him aside, holding on to it as she runs away.

She chances a glance back over her shoulder and only sees him searching for another way.

For a moment, for a split second, clear possibility strikes her.

She bounds up the stoop to the blue door, taking a deep breath and turning the handle to the right. When she opens her eyes she's inside a stark white hallway. She closes the door shut behind her and flips the lock. Hoping it'll slow them down, knowing it probably won't.

Her breathing is ragged and she pulls the beanie off her head, tucking it in her pocket. She looks at her watch, three minutes to spare. She straightens her shirt and walks down the hallway until she comes to the area outside the courtrooms. Couples are paired off waiting in a line outside 301. Couples happy and smiling, holding on to each other with a giddy fever.

Lexa scans the room, scans the line.

Not seeing Clarke.

Not believing her eyes, not wanting to let the ugly darkness that she's kept at bay so far sweep up and pull her under.

"Lexa?" Someone calls her name and she spins around.

Raven.

"Where is she?" Desperate and wanting, Lexa feels a blip of hope.

"What are you doing here?" Raven sounds surprised but not angry, not accusing.

"I need to see her, where is she?"

Raven tilts her head, "She's in the bathroom."

Lexa makes a move to follow the signs when Raven stops her, "Don't hurt her again, Lexa."

Xx

The irony dawns on her as she opens the door to the women's room. Another bathroom. Another bit of fate.

She throws the door shut behind her, locks it and moves the chair in front of it, before moving in and around the corner to the sink lined mirror. Clarke is there, fixing her hair and biting her lip.

Lexa stands there for a long moment, watching Clarke study her own reflection. The unease that sits on her face, the doubt. She doesn't look like someone who is getting married.

She doesn't look happy.

Lexa takes a deep breath to steady herself. Panting and sweaty and rain soaked but unable to stand here for a moment longer. She makes her presence known. Moves further into the bathroom, moves closer to Clarke.

"Clarke,"

Clarke's eyes slide to her own in the mirror and something visceral changes in her posture. Her mouth drops open in shock, surprise. Lexa can read it all in an instant. She steels herself for the storm she knows is coming. The storm that she won't try to stop.

"What are you doing here?" Clarke barely utters it, but Lexa hears the words. Feels them.

"I'm sorry, Clarke. I'm so sorry." She takes another step, hesitant but needing to be closer. "I can't imagine what you must think of me."

"Sure you can." Everything about Clarke is hard. Her voice, her stance, her eyes.

Flint and ice.

Lexa shakes her head, needing to say so much and yet not knowing how to.

"Why are you here, Lexa?" It cuts through her, rips through her ribcage like a bullet.

"I need you, Clarke." It slips from her lips before she can stop it, think of anything else to say. She feels the time ticking away, feels the pressure mounting before they're found. But here, with Clarke, finally again after so long, nothing else matters.

"You _need_ me? You need me, Lexa? You know when _I_ needed _you_?" It's a vicious snarl that rips from her, angry and hot. It's Clarke who leans in closer this time, steel and fire.

The wrath that rolls off Clarke fills the small space, fills the distance between them.

"I needed you when I was alone in the hospital." She takes another step. "You left me in a _fucking hospital_ , Lex!" It's a hiss and a roar all at once. It's everything Clarke has been holding on to for these long seven months. Lexa feels spit land on her face, flying at her with Clarke's angry words. She stands still and takes it, allowing Clarke to get it out.

"I'm sorry, Clarke. I know what I did was horrible. I didn't want to leave, I didn't-"

"Could have fooled me."

"Walking away from you was like tearing my own heart out, ripping my soul in half." She fights to hold Clarke's gaze, doesn't let her look away.

There's a silence that stretches between them. Lexa's fear mounts, the gravity of their situation moving to the forefront of her brain with every second.

And then Clarke breaks.

Tears fall down her cheeks. Lexa reaches out to touch her, but Clarke pushes her away. " _No_ , don't. Don't touch me."

Lexa crumples in on herself, unsure and unsteady. Her breathing still ragged from her run, but the adrenaline wearing off. She's just alone with Clarke in another bathroom. Clarke in another blue dress. Miles between them.

"I can't stop thinking about you." It's a quiet admission.

"I'm getting married." She looks up and something flickers in her eyes before the ice settles back.

"You don't love him."

"You don't know _anything_ about me! You don't, you don't. You don't know what it takes to make me happy." Clarke screams, brushing the tears off her face and growling.

"I do, Clarke. I know that you feel what I feel. I know how I feel when I'm with you… like everything is right and good and real and the way it's supposed to be. I remember every single word of that conversation in your bed… I remember how you looked at me."

"You don't know what I feel." She steps forward only to push Lexa away. Her fists fierce against Lexa's shoulders. "You've hurt me more than anyone has _ever_ hurt me." Her words choke around the angry sob she tries to hide.

"I know, I know and I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that I left you the way that I did."

"Lexa, you can't keep doing this to me. I can't keep doing this…." Her voice is so soft and so hurt, her words falling heavily into the air. "Why do you keep leaving me?" She breathes it out, an afterthought meant to stay hidden.

Lexa does take a step forward this time, waits for Clarke to step back but she holds firm. "I have never wanted to leave you, Clarke. There are… there are people who don't want us to be together, who keep pulling us apart."

"I don't believe you." She shakes her head, blonde curls falling around her face as she tries to remain strong.

"You do." Lexa creeps closer to Clarke, watches as her body relaxes just the slightest bit. "Tell me to go. Tell me to walk away and you'll never see me again… you'll never hear from me again. I'll leave you alone."

"Lex…"

"I love you, Clarke. I think a part of me has always loved you."

Clarke stands there, the tears falling from her eyes again. She takes a deep shuddering breath and steps even closer to Lexa, sharing the same space again. Something ignites in Lexa's bones, that feeling that only Clarke can bring.

"Do you want this?"

She wishes her voice were stronger, full of passion. Instead it comes out quiet and timid.

Clarke swallows, her eyes holding steady on Lexa's. Searching and searing through her in that way that she's been able to since that first night. She takes a deep breath but doesn't say anything, doesn't answer. Lexa hears the ticking of her watch, the time running out, her life slipping through her hands.

Too late, she's too late.

"I"m sorry, Clarke. I never meant to turn you into this." Her heart is heavy inside of her, breaking and shattering and imploding. She closes her eyes and drops her head as she moves away, taking the hat from her pocket and pulling it on.

She leaves Clarke standing in the middle of the bathroom in her beautiful blue dress, a lingering memory to take with her. She reaches for the door handle when Clarke stops her.

" _Yes_."

"Clarke?"

"Yes." She clears her throat and steps closer to Lexa, shares the same breath of space. She stands there for another long moment, the hard lines on her face not quite gone. "If you leave me again-"

"I won't." Lexa swears it right there. In the middle of the bathroom of the courthouse in downtown Manhattan. She looks into Clarke's eyes and swears it with every fiber of her being.

Clarke studies Lexa's face and weighs the words, Lexa's spark of hope threatening to kill her. Until Clarke wraps her arms around Lexa and curls into her. Their bodies pressing together again, breathing each other in. Lexa feels like she can finally breathe.

Seconds or moments or eternities pass before Lexa can speak. Remembers the reality of their situation.

"Clarke… we have to go."

"Can't we just stay here and forget about everything else?"

"Clarke, please." She's not sure what they're going to do, not yet. But she knows they can't stay here. They've stayed too long already.

Her mind rushes with possibility, with plans.

Clarke nods, burying her face in Lexa's neck. "Will you tell me what's going on?" Before she can decide their next steps, someone begins pounding on the door. Angry voices yelling for Lexa to open the door. They have to move, have to run.

"I'll show you." Lexa spies a closet door in the corner and pulls Clarke over with her, grabbing the handle and twisting it hard to the right. "Don't let go of my hand, ok? Whatever happens, keep holding on to me."

Clarke nods, determined. Lexa watches her eyes widen as she opens the door to a busy street in Chinatown.

"It's about to get weird, but keep running. Keep believing."

Xx

The sprint down the street to a giant red door and Lexa turns the knob, yanking it open. She gasps when they walk onto the outfield of Yankee stadium. Spinning around and taking the grandeur in for a moment.

Clarke drops her hand and whispers, "Oh my... How?" Her eyes are wide with shock and amazement. Lexa smiles for a split second, before she sees another door buried in the outfield wall.

"Come on, there's another door." Clarke grips her hand again and they run towards it together. When the cross the threshold they're inside Modern Museum of Art, the Blue Whale skeletal and enormous above them. A group of men with hats turn and see them, and Lexa panics. It's Clarke who sees the next door, pointing it out and shaking Lexa's hand to get her attention.

They run through door after door after door, popping up in the weirdest spaces before finding an exit. Until they open a door and end up on the grounds of the Statue of Liberty, panting and wheezing for breath. Clarke drops her hand and walks a few steps ahead, looking up, looking out. Nowhere else to go, just wide blue water.

"Lex?"

"I'm sorry, Clarke. I'm sorry."

"Why are those men chasing us?"

"They don't want us to be together," She closes the distance and grabs Clarke's shoulders. "They want to keep us apart, the only way for us to succeed is apart from each other. They keep saying love is weakness."

"Lexa, I saw one of them…. I saw… I saw one. A bald man in a suit came into my gallery a week after you left." She takes a deep breath, still panting but trying to speak, get the confession off her chest. "He said I needed to stop trying to call you, to get to you. He told me that you were bound for greatness, that I would hold you back. He said I needed to let you go in order to protect you." She starts crying again, everything suddenly crashing down. "I didn't know what it all meant…"

"Titus." Anger and resentment and hatred boil inside of her, aching to be free from the skin that holds it inside.

"I can't, Lex. I can't stay away from you. I tried." She covers her face with her hands and lets the tears come. Lexa pulls her close, hugs her to her chest. "Nothing feels right without you."

"Clarke,"

"It's not weakness…"

"No, it's not."

The spark of an idea ignites inside of her, Clarke's heartbeat so strong and fast under her hands, her breath and her tears warm and hot on her skin.

"I want you." Clarke whispers it into Lexa's neck. She squeezes her arms tighter for just a moment before pulling back and wiping wet cheeks.

"Then let's fight."

Determination settles on Clarke's face and Lexa links their hands together again. "I have an idea." They walk to the door at the base of the statue and look at each other as they both grab the doorknob.

"To the left."


	10. Seven

There's a bright, blinding light when the door opens. Lexa tentatively steps through the doorway, Clarke's hand real and alive in hers. The view before them is that of an empty hallway. Dark, rich wood lining the walls. Closed doors on both sides.

"Which way?" Lexa looks to Clarke, wanting to be firm in the decision.

"Left."

"Ok," they walk in tandem down the hallway, trying to keep their steps light. There's a marble staircase off to the side at the end of the hall. Lexa looks at Clarke again, asking silently.

With a small nod from the girl holding her hand, they being to climb the stairs to an elaborate lobby. A gorgeous chandelier hangs from the ceiling, marble and stone decorate the room. It's vast, acres of space inside a city that never seems to have enough.

"Excuse me, hey." A woman stands from a nearby desk and points at the two of them. "What are you doing here?"

"Shit..." Lexa ducks her head and quickens her step.

"Stop, you can't be here." She calls after them, sounding the alarm, her words echoing through the open space.

"Lex-" Clarke pulls her into a run, up another stone staircase. They burst into a library. Desks and books surrounding them. People scattered amongst the tables reading and writing quietly. Clarke weaves her through the space as more agents join their tail, try to stop them.

The next door they make it through leads them to the roof. "Go back, go back!" Lexa points. Clarke flings the door open again but it brings them to the same spot they just vacated. A loop.

Endless.

"Lex-" It's a strangled cry that leaves Clarke's mouth. A group of agents file onto the roof, parting for someone to move through the small crowd.

"I told you, I warned you." Titus. His face blistering with anger.

"No. I want to see the Chairman." Lexa straightens her back and stares him down. Clarke's presence beside her giving her strength. A current of shared energy streaming between them.

He laughs, a harsh bark. "No one sees the Chairman. No human has ever set foot inside this building."

"Take me to the Chairman."

"Alexandra, why must you throw everything away? Everything we've worked so hard for… we are handing you a kingdom. You could be the leader of the free world, the most powerful person on earth and you're tossing it aside for what? For a _girl_?" He spits it out, his gaze focused on Clarke.

Clarke who places her free hand on Lexa's elbow, not moving an inch.

"For love."

Titus scoffs and shakes his head, clearly disappointed. "Such a waste…" He turns around and addresses the team behind him. "They'll both be reset, get the doctor."

Everyone leaves but Titus and the boy, who stand to the side with furrowed brows. Uninterested now that the chase is over, now that the decision has been made, the outlaws rounded up with nowhere to go.

Dismay and anxiety fill Lexa, pumping through her bloodstream. Her stomach clenches and she fights the tears, fights the white hot anger that threatens to take over. Cursing herself for dragging Clarke into this mess.

Clarke who is still gripping her hand like a lifeline.

Clarke who is still warm and strong beside her.

Clarke who gave her everything she ever wanted from life if only for an instant. A moment of happiness between them. A breath of solace. Of peace.

Clarke who tugs on her arm and moves until they're looking at each other. Her eyes are so clear, the emotions swirling inside like a hurricane. Fear, love, worry, adoration.

All there for Lexa to see.

For Lexa to know.

" _Lex_ ," Clarke kisses her, lips strong and warm on hers. Lexa sinks into it for a moment before breaking it, looking into Clarke's eyes, needing to be sure. Clarke nods and kisses her again, tears leak from Lexa's eyes as she moves her hands to Clarke's hair, tilts her head and deepens the kiss.

Everything she's wanted to say forever.

Everything that got lost in the distance between them.

Clarke kisses her like it's the only thing she knows how to do and Lexa moans into her mouth.

"I love you." Clarke whispers it against her lips, speaks it into her waiting mouth. Her words clanging around until Lexa swallows them, forces them into her essence. Feels it all over her.

That same old rattling, shaking feeling awakens inside Lexa. She grips harder on Clarke's neck, pulls her impossibly closer. Wants to melt into her and fade away. Fade away from existence knowing the taste of this kiss, and only this kiss.

The bliss she has with Clarke the last thing she wants to feel.

Xx

When they stop and pull away from each other to meet their uncertain future, they are alone on the rooftop.

"What?" Clarke breathes it out next to her. A door opens behind them, and Lexa turns fiercely, pushing Clarke behind her.

"Follow me, please." Anya. Her face blank and unreadable. She leads them through the door and down a long panelled hallway. Their shoes hitting the marble floor the only sound. Clarke's hold on her so tight, Lexa feels every bone in her hand scream out. But she grips Clarke just as tightly, pulls her close so their shoulders are touching as they walk.

It's Anya who finally breaks the silence. "I've never seen anyone like you before, Lexa. I'm glad you made it here."

Lexa can't speak, too petrified, too unsure of what's happening, of what she brought Clarke into.

"You're special. You both are. The Chairman is impressed."

"Impressed?" Clarke squeaks, her voice as unsteady as Lexa has ever heard it.

"Yes." She stops at the end of the hallway and faces them. "She granted your request to see her."

"So she can lobotomize us in person?" Lexa can't hold it back anymore.

Anya's face changes for a moment, "No." She places her palm flat on the wall behind her and a door appears. "She's waiting for you."

Lexa looks to Clarke, sees the determination on her face. Her eyes flit down to Lexa's lips and she brushes the faintest of kisses against them. "It's now or never, Lex."

It is Clarke's strength and Clarke's will that pulls them through the door.

Xx

The office they walk into is wide, airy. Tall windows span stories, the sun trying to break through the clouds. It's bright and Lexa blinks away the sting in her eyes.

"Alexandra, Clarke, welcome."

A soft soothing voice breaks her from the fog. Sounds like it is being delivered straight to her ear, disembodied and everywhere. Instead, Lexa's eyes land on a woman standing before them. Young. Younger than she would have imagined. Her presence almost calming.

"It's a pleasure to have you both, won't you come in and sit." She gestures to the leather couch along the window, but Lexa doesn't move.

"Is it?"

The woman's eyes cloud for a moment, she dips her head. "It is. If you sit, I will explain."

Lexa wants to fight it, wants to rage and scream. Instead she grinds her teeth and holds back a growl. Clarke shakes their joined hands. "Lex… this is what we came for."

"I know."

She takes a deep breath and feels Clarke's steady hand guide her to the couch. They sit and the woman takes a seat in a chair before them.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Becca, and yes, it is a pleasure to see you."

"Becca... So you're not just The Chairman." Clarke's voice holds a light energy in it. An energy that Lexa cannot understand, but appreciates. Clarke can do what she cannot.

"I have many names, Becca is simply one of them. It appeals to you humans."

"How many humans have you seen over the years?"

"Plenty. But none have ever come here. You two are the first. You two are the first in a lot of ways."

Lexa scoffs, petulant and impatient, "Why us?"

"You're special. You both are."

"That's not what Titus said."

"Titus is a fool who went above and beyond any measures he should have. He will be punished accordingly." Becca stops to clear her throat before continuing, "I wanted to apologize to you both, in person."

"Apologize?"

She nods, "Yes. What you have gone through is… _extraordinary_. And I am sorry for all of that."

"You made it that way." This time a snarl does rip through Lexa. Clarke's thumb brushing over her hand the only thing that pulls her back.

"I did, but it was never my intention for you to face so many obstacles on your road to each other."

"What do you mean?" Clarke speaks before Lexa has a chance to.

"Let me ask you something before I answer that. When you were around Lexa, did it feel like something inside of you sparked into life. Like suddenly everything made sense?"

"Yes," Clarke whispers.

"There is a reason for that." Becca stands up and pulls a book off the large bookcase that lines the opposite wall of the office. She opens the book and places it on the table between them. It is filled with more of the lines and graphs that Lexa has seen before, but this time there are two lines moving in tandem with one another. One red, one blue. "This is your story."

"Our story?"

"Yes, Lexa. Yours and Clarke's. Together."

"Together?"

She nods, a small and solemn smile on her face. "Yes. You two are made for each other, meant for each other in every lifetime."

"Reincarnation…" Clarke breathes next to her. Lexa's eyes slide to her and see the look of amazement, wonder on her face.

"I suppose you could call it that, yes. There are not many of your kind around, we call you Others. Pairs are not made lightly, but they are chosen with the utmost reverence for what that means."

"Which is?"

"My dear, you and Clarke are bound to be together, always. Made to complement one another, change and challenge one another, support one another every time you meet. She is your Other. She always will be."

"Soulmates." Again, Clarke's voice cuts to the chase.

Becca's attention shifts to Clarke, a thrill alive on her face.

"Your souls belong together, they complement each other in a way that none other will. It is why you felt complete when you kissed. It was in that moment that your souls recognized each other. Remembered each other."

"But then why make it so hard?"

"Because you have to fight for it." Lexa can't believe it, not yet.

"Fight for what? For love? For free will?"

"Yes. For all of it."

"I've been fighting for years."

She nods and leans forward, "Yes, you have. I am proud of you, Alexandra."

Lexa bristles against it, the words, the apology.

Clarke picks up the conversation, allowing Lexa time to process. "Can you tell us why it had to be this way?"

"That is why you are sitting here." She flips to the back of the book and unravels a new page, longer than the others. Folded and creased to fit inside the binding. "This is your new plan… the one I drew up for both of you. You will not be separated again."

Lexa stares at the file, itching to look, to believe. "Why were we separated in the first place?" Her voice is so soft and fragile she hates it as soon as the words leave her mouth.

Becca reaches out and places her hand on Lexa's knee, drawing her attention. Forcing Lexa to look into her eyes, to see what is written there. Lexa doesn't fight it, but holds Becca's gaze, trying to understand this woman. Trying to trust.

"Because when you don't have to fight for it, when you don't have to work for it your love does not survive." She removes her hand and leans back into her chair, addressing both of them. "Even though you were made to be together, when you don't have to fight with every ounce of who you are to be with each other, when you don't have to make that _choice_ , you do not last."

"It doesn't have to be this way… why do we have to face a struggle to love each other?" Clarke chokes on her words, tears falling from her eyes.

"Clarke," Becca sighs, looking regretful and embarrassed. "Depending on the path you're supposed to be on, it isn't always this difficult. All that is required is that choice, the one that overrides anything we have written for you. But when it comes too easily for you two, when you come together in a way that is simple, your love remains simple."

She takes a breath and looks at them both before continuing. "And you were made for a great love."

Lexa swallows the words she wants to say, the anger, the disappointment. She closes her eyes and sees lifetimes of Clarke before her, beside her. Years of kisses, of fights, of smiles and tears. Lifetimes that they've had together and ones where they've only had each other for moments, pieces, before hurt and heartache stepped in. She knows that Becca's words are the truth.

"It shouldn't have to be this hard." She repeats it for the second time that day, just as quietly as she spoke it to Anya.

"You're right. And that's why I brought you up here to apologize to you. I didn't realize the lengths to which Titus was going to keep you apart. Even though yours is a love that requires sacrifice and choice, it is never to be kept from you when those choices are love you share is not made to be simple, but it is not made to be dangerous either. You are very lucky you had someone like Anya on your side."

"She risked so much for us."

"Yes, she did. She has exceeded all expectations I've had for her. She brought the anomaly of your case to my attention, made sure the mistakes that were made could be rectified before it was too late."

There's a pause and Becca lets the truth settle a bit more on curious shoulders.

"So, you say that everything that happens in our lives happens for a reason… that it's planned?" Clarke breaks the silence, trying to come to terms with what Lexa has known for years.

"Most things. But you both have known loss in your lives that was not supposed to occur. Clarke, your father was… an unfortunate oversight. It was what changed your plan, made it so you and Lexa did not cross paths on your own. It was what Anya figured out. What Titus failed to see."

There's an awkward stretch between them. Clarke's heart breaking beside her, the pain of losing her father too real and too full not to be felt.

Lexa struggles with the weight of anger and dismay inside of her. With the past four years of anguish, of emptiness. Of everything feeling wrong.

"He said I would be erased… that my soul would be gone. If Clarke is my soulmate-" Her voice cracks and she swallows the heavy words, not able to speak the possibility outloud. Clarke brushes her thumb over Lexa's hand, settles her free one on Lexa's knee. Steadying her. Grounding her.

"I could have lost her forever-" Clarke's voice breaks around the weight of the words that leave her mouth. Around the weight of the reality that exists between them. The past lives that sit in her bones, heavy and real. Dreams and memories brought to new light

Becca looks down at her lap, clearly disappointed. "I would _never_ have allowed that to happen. that is not something that would ever be done, not with a case like yours… there are so few of you, so few Others...sometimes the meaning of it gets lost."

"But we made that choice, again and again and still we were pulled apart." Lexa can't let it go, can't drop it. The threat of _nothingness_ still too real.

"You're right. I had an ulterior motive for allowing your request to see me. It's true, once your souls recognize each other and make the decision to leap forward and walk the earth as one, your paths are to merge."

She points to the book, to the open page before them. "This is your story, your history all here for you to see in this book. Your past lives, previous versions of you and Clarke finding each other in every new beginning. But this," She moves her finger along the new page, "this is your new plan. It's the one I drew up for you this morning."

When Becca's finger moves along the lines, they disappear. The page blank and clean, the two dots stopping in the middle of the page as if they are poised on an abyss.

"There's nothing there." Lexa's can feel the worry lines crease her forehead.

"No, from this moment on it's a blank page before you."

"So we'll be together?" Clarke gasps, her shoulder leaning into Lexa's.

"Yes, and without any further interference from us. You have earned the right to your free will, your choice. Your own destiny."

When she looks at Clarke, the happiness radiating from her nearly blinds Lexa.

Becca clears her throat, "There's more." She waits until they both look at her and smiles, "You two went through an extraordinary amount of strife to be together. It has been the biggest challenge you've ever gone through in your long history. From this point forward, it will no longer be that way."

"But you just said-"

Becca cuts her off, "I know. But your souls will remember _this_ , will cherish each other from now on even when you find each other effortlessly."

"How can we believe you?" Hope tingles at the back of Lexa's neck where fear sat comfortably for too long.

"Because we will no longer be overseeing you," Becca glances at Clarke, "Either of you. From here on out, for the rest of your lifetimes."

"It seems too easy…"

"Alexandra," She waits for Lexa to face her again, "Has anything about the past few months felt easy?"

"No."

She nods and stands, the conversation clearly over. "I wish you both the best of luck."

"Thank you, Becca…" Clarke drops Lexa's hand and holds it out for Becca. They shake and share a smile. "Thank you."

"Lexa?" Clarke's eyebrows are raised and her gaze is heavy, examining.

"How can you accept it all so easily?"

"Lex," Clarke brushes her hand over Lexa's cheek, her eyes so soft. "Don't you feel it?"

Lexa closes her eyes and her blood thrums within. Her soul an ancient being, moving and humming, aching for Clarke. "I do."

Clarke leans her forehead against Lexa's and waits for her to open her eyes. There is a wide smile, brilliant and beautiful on her face. "Me too."

They stand there like that for a moment, feeling their histories span between them, uniting them.

"Are you ready?" Clarke's voice is so soft, so raspy and broken with the emotion that floods through their bond.

"Yes." Lexa lifts her head and straightens her back, turning to Becca with Clarke's hand in hers.

Becca smiles and joy settles around the room like a blanket. "Love is _strength_ , Alexandra."

The tears come then, the relief. Hot and heavy, a sob rips from her throat. Clarke's hand grips her waist and Lexa leans against her.

Xx

Anya's smile is large and brilliant when they exit Becca's office. She pulls Lexa into a bear hug, laughing against her. "I can't believe you pulled it off!"

Lexa hugs back, trying to pour her gratitude, her happiness into Anya. Instead she feels Anya pull away only to grab Clarke and hug them both.

"I knew I was right about you."

She laughs and feels the relief build from somewhere deep inside her. When they break apart, Clarke takes her hand again and tugs it, an expectant look on her face.

"Oh, right... Clarke, this is Anya. Anya, this is Clarke." Her lips tilt up in a half smile, one that seems to happen more and more where Clarke is concerned.

Anya holds out her hand for Clarke, who pushes it away and hugs her again.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Clarke."

"You helped?"

Anya nods and takes a step back, tilting her head down the hallway as they start walking out. "I did."

"Anya, thank you."

"Clarke, there is no need to thank me. You guys are gonna be talk of the Bureau for a long, long time." She stops and props open a door, waiting for them to walk through. "What will you do now?"

Clarke glances at Lexa, her eyebrow quirked up. Lexa shrugs, a smile growing on her face. "Whatever we want, I guess."

Anya laughs again and waits for Clarke to pass through the door before stopping Lexa. "Wait," she grabs Lexa's forearm in a shake, pulling her tighter to her body, pride coursing off of her. "May we meet again."

A memory pulls at Lexa, "It was you."

Anya just nods, letting go of Lexa's hand. Patiently waiting for her to continue.

"That day in the crowd… you nodded at me. When you looked at me I felt like you'd known me forever and I thought it was the strangest sensation. I can't believe I remembered that."

"I _have_ known you forever."

"That phrase… it just came out of my mouth, I had never heard it before. It was you that whole time. You were there." She pauses working it all out, "Did you send Clarke?"

A smile spreads across her face, it's the happiest the agent has ever looked. "You two would have met eventually. I just sped up the process."

"Did you know that we would be separated?"

"Not at the time, not like that."

"That was the moment that changed everything." She smiles, remembers that moment when her priorities flipped. When a girl became the only thing she could think of.

Anya pats her on the back, steadies a hand on her shoulder and turns her towards the door. "Take care of yourself, Lexa."

Xx

They move through the crowd on the sidewalk like a river through the earth.

Never letting go of each other.

Never stumbling or tripping.

Everyone moving around them as if they part the seas before them.

The happiness is overwhelming. Shining like a beacon from their skin.

Clarke's smile is so warm and so wide, it could light the sky.

They walk down the street, exhausted and overwhelmed but impossibly happy. Clarke's arm is through Lexa's, and she hugs her body close.

The rain stops and the sun comes out and Lexa feels endless possibility stretch out before them.

"Breakfast?" Clarke's breath tickles Lexa's ear as she leans up, brushes a kiss against her cheek.

Lexa smiles, "I know just the place."

Clarke squeezes her tighter and chuckles under her breath, dropping another small kiss along her sharp jaw. Humming and content with this moment, this morning, this life.

Xx

When Lexa opens her eyes, it is to a smiling Clarke. Her head propped up on her elbow, her hair tangled and bedridden, the sun streaming in through the window behind her surrounding her in an ethereal kind of glow. The soft smile on her face says it all.

It only grows wider when Lexa moves to her back, feels the corner of her lips tilt up and warmth envelop her.

She knows that it was all worth it.

Just for this one moment of perfection, of bliss.

The pain, the strife, the loneliness was all worth it.

She would go through it all a hundred times, lay waste to her heart for this single, amazing moment.

Because it's not just one moment that she gets now. That _they_ get now.

It's a lifetime.

It's a whole host of lifetimes.

For every moment to come and for all the futures they have yet to share.

An eternity with her soulmate by her side in every new life, in every new universe that comes.

"Hi."

"Hi."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Thank you all for coming on this journey with me and trusting me with this story. I have enjoyed writing this one and I know for sure that our girls are soulmates, bound to be together in every universe no matter what!


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